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Under the editorial supervisionof LINDSAY TODD DAMON. 
A. B., Professor of Rhetoric iii Brown University, 



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Z\)c Xafte jEnglieb Claeeice 

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LINDSAY TODD DAMON, A. B. 

Froftasor of Rhetoric in Brown University 



El}t 3iakF lEngUfili flIlaHBtrfi 



THE NARRATIVE POEMS 



OF 



LONGFELLOW 



EDITED FOR SCHOOL USE 

BY 

JOHN RUSH POWELL 

Principal of the Jamea E. Yedtman High .School 
tit. Louis, Mo. 



CHICAGO 
SCOTT, FORESMAN & CO. 
1908 



Ir^' 



^''^ 



LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two •'">Hi»^'? P T ■>i>'ecl 

DEC 3 1906 

^ Copy M-, It ..my 
CLASS 0U ^^C, ^0, 



Copyright, 1908 
By Scott, Poiesiuau & Co. 



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PREFACE 

The narrative poems of Longfellow are marked by 
simplicity of style and substance combined with a high 
degree of narrative skill — qualities which make them 
eminently adapted to use in the earlier years of the high 
school course. It has therefore seemed worth while to 
bring together in one volume all of Longfellow's narra- 
tive poems. The notes are intended to explain the text 
wherever it would not be clear without the aid of the 
numerous reference-books which only a large library is 
likely to possess, and to direct the attention of the stu- 
dent to the material on which Longfellow based these 
poems. An extensive study of "sources" so-called is not 
necessary or even advisable in high school work. On 
the other hand, a reader's understanding of Evangeline, 
for example, is certainly increased by knowing the facts 
out of which the poem sprang; and in the case of Hia- 
watha, much of the poem is unintelligible without a con- 
siderable acquaintance with the legendary background 
asainst which it is limned. Nor is it economical or wise 
to set school-boys hunting hither and yon for the isolated 
facts on which comprehension of the text so often de- 
pends. It has therefore seemed to the editor best to supply 
a liberal body of apparatus and to trust to the teacher 
to use this material wisely. 

9 



10 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

The editor desires to acknowledge his debt to the 
Standard Library Edition of the poet's works and to 
Samuel Longfellow's Life of Longfellow, both published 
by Houghton, Mifflin and Company. The quotations from 
the poet's diary and letters, when not otherwise acknowl- 
edged, are made from the last mentioned work. Various 
school editions of Longfellow's poems have been con- 
sulted, but the notes of this edition have been drawn 
wholly from the original sources of Longfellow's material 
or from standard works of reference, such as the Century 
Dictionary. 

The editor acknowledges the courtesy extended him })y 
the management of the Saint Louis Mercantile Library 
through the Librarian, Mr. William L. R. Gifford. His 
thanks are especially due Miss May Simonds, Reference 
Librarian, for material aid in making available the re- 
sources of that library. 

Mr. Charles B. Goddard, instructor in English in the 
Yeatman High School, Saint Louis, has assisted the editor 
no little in the revision of the proof as well as by valu- 
able suggestions as to the arrangement of the material in 
the introductions. 

John Rush Powell. 

Saint Louis, October, 1908. 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 
Introduction 

I. Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 13 

IL Chronological Outline 31 

in. Bibliography 34 

Text of the Narrative Poems with 
Introductions 

I. Introduction to the Ballads 36 

The SkeletoxN in Armor 40 

The Wreck of the Hesperus 44 

II. Introduction to Evangeline 48 

Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie 50 

III. Introduction to Hiawatha 105 

The Song of Hiawatha 118 

IV. Introduction to Miles Standisii 250 

The Courtship of Miles Standish 256 

V. Introduction to the Tales of a Way- 
side Inn 293 

Tales of a Wayside Inn 298 

Notes to the Poems 387 



11 



LONGFELLOW, THE MAN AND THE POET 

L Biographical 
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born at Portland, 
INIaine, February 27, 1807, descended on his mother's 
side from John Alden and Priscilla. The 
Ed"* r° Longfellows had been known in New Eng- 

land from the latter part of the seven- 
teenth century. From both sides he inherited a scrupulous 
integrity, in which were blended the best traits of Pilgrim 
and Puritan. His youth was spent in Portland in a home 
of books and music. After attending school for some 
years at the Portland Academy, where, we are told, his 
conduct was **very correct and amiable," he found him- 
self ready for college at the age of fourteen. 

He entered Bowdoin College at Brunswick, Maine, of 
which his father was a trustee. The young student was 
fortunate in his friends and classmates, two of whom, 
Nathaniel Hawthorne and J. S. C. Abbot, were also 
destined to become widely known in the world of letters. 
He graduated second in rank in the class of 1825, highly 
esteemed by the faculty and his fellow-students. 

That the choice of a profession weighed heavily upon 
him during his last year in college, is shown by the corre- 
spondence between him and his father. 

T^ , . Stephen Longfellow intended his son for 

Profession i 

the law, deeming that career the open 

sesame to respectability and position, if not to financial 

13 



14 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

success; but the tastes of the youth were in another direc- 
tion. In a letter to his father, dated December 5, 1824, 
we hear his plea: 

**I take this early opportunity to write you, because I 
wish to follow fully your inclination with regard to the 
profession I am to pursue when I leave college. For my 
part I have already hinted to you what would best please 
me. I want to spend a year at Cambridge for the purpose 
of reading history and of becoming familiar with the best 
authors of polite literature; whilst at the same time I can 
be acquiring a knowledge of the Italian language, without 
an acquaintance with which I shall be shut out from one of 
the most beautiful departments of letters. The French I 
mean to understand pretty thoroughly before I leave 
college. After leaving Cambridge I would attach myself 
to some literary periodical publication, by which I could 
maintain myself and still enjoy the advantages of reading. 
Now, I do not think that there is anything visionary or 
chimerical in my plan thus far. The fact is — and I will 
not disguise it in the least, for I think I ought not — the fact 
is, I most eagerly aspire after future eminence in literature; 
my whole soul burns most ardently for it, and every earthly 
thought centres in it. There may be something visionary 
in this, but I flatter myself that I have prudence enough 
to keep my enthusiasm from defeating its own object by 
too great haste. Surely there was never a better oppor- 
tunity offered for the exertion of literary talent in our own 
country than is now offered. 

*'To be sure most of our literary men thus far have not 
been professedly so until they have studied and entered 
the practice of Theology, Law, or Medicine, But this is 
evidently lost time. I do believe that we ought to pay 



Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 15 

more attention to tlie opinion of philosophers, that 'noth- 
ing but Nature can quahfy a man for Knowledge.' 

"Whether Nature has given me any capacity for knowl- 
edge or not, she has at any rate given me a very strong 
predilection for literary pursuits, and I am almost con- 
fident in believing that, if I can ever rise in this world, it 
must be by the exercise of my talent in the wide field of 
literatui-e. With such a belief, I must say that I am un- 
willing to engage in the study of law. 

"Here, then, seems to be the starting point: and I 
think it best for me to float into the world upon that tide 
and in that channel which will the soonest bring me to my 
destined port, and not to struggle against both wind and 
tide, and, by attempting what is impossible, lose every- 
thing." ^ 

That Longfellow should turn instinctively to literature 
was not strange, considering the indications of his youth 
both at Portland and at Brunswick. Youthful poems of 
his, such as ''The Fight at Lovell's Pond," had found 
their way to the local newspaper in Portland before he 
entered college, and while in Bowdoin he frequently con- 
tributed verses to the periodicals of the day. The United 
States Litemnj Gazette published in all seventeen of these 
poems, five of which the poet later deemed worthy of 
saving, placing them in his first volume under the heading, 
Earlier Poems. 

Longfellow's entrance into the field of letters was by 
way of the professor's chair. Following the example of 
Harvard, Bowdoin established in 1825 a chair of modern 
languages. The selection of a professor was a serious 



16 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

matter to the Board of Trustees, and it was with great 
difficulty that suitable candidates could be found. At 
length their choice fell upon Longfellow, then just graduat- 
ing from Bowdoin, whose scholarship in language had 
made a profound impression upon the Board during the 
public oral examinations for graduation. The appoint- 
ment carried with it the suggestion that he spend some 
time in Europe in preparation for his new work. 

The next year (1826) found him in France, where he 
spent his first six months abroad. From there he went to 

Spain, Italy, and Germany in leisurely 
p succession, absorbing the languages so 

thoroughly that he could read, write, and 
speak them with almost the ease of a native. Moreover, 
he drank deep at every source of culture, — literature, art, 
tradition, — and came back with a broadened horizon 
such as only travel can give. He ended his three years* 
stay in Europe with a brief visit to England, and returned 
to America in the autumn of 1829, eager to take up his 
work of teaching those languages he had just acquired 
under such favorable circumstances. 

Assuming the duties of his position in the autumn of 
1829, he began his long career as teacher and author. 

His lectures showed at once the wide 

^ „ J • knowledge and liberal culture he had 

at Bowdoin . , ? , i . , pit. 

gamed through his study oi the r^uro- 

pean languages and literatures. He not only had to or- 
ganize his department, but also to make his text -books and 



Longfellow, the Ma72 and the Poet 17 

collect books for a library. His first serious authorship 
was devoted to the compilation and translation of text- 
books and the writing of articles on the languages and 
literatures he was teaching. This five years' earnest 
teaching and study gave him more than local reputation, 
attracting the notice of the Harvard authorities, who, in 
1834, invited him to succeed George Ticknor in the 
Smith Professorship of Belles Lettrcs at Harvard. The 
chair to which he was appointed included practically the 
same subjects as his professorship at Bowdoin. He re- 
signed his position at Bowdoin in the spring of 1835, and, 
accompanied by his wife, whom he had married in 1831, 
he made his second trip to Europe for purposes of study. 
In the winter of 1835, at Rotterdam, i\Irs. Longfellow 
died. He lessened his sorrow by deep study. The record 
of this year and a half of study and travel may be read 
in the prose romance Hyperion, just as his first trip may 
be traced in the similar Outre Mer. 

In the autumn of 183G he returned to America to take 
up his duties at Harvard. During his long connection 
The Harvard with Harvard College, his work was earn- 

Professorship, est, inspiring, sympathetic, and scholarly 
1 836- 1 854 He drew his students into a close per- 

sonal relation with him, making them feel that he was 
not only a scholar and a teacher, but also their friend, 
with the result that he was the best loved teacher at 
Harvard. 

During those busy years as active head of the depart- 



18 Narrative Poems of Longfellow | 

J 

ment of modern languages, his fame was spreading rap- ' 

idly in the world of letters. Shortly after the publication ! 

of Hyperion in 1839, there appeared, in the same year, a 

little volume. Voices of the Niqht, con- ; 

"Voices of ... ... j 

Th N" ht" taming nine new poems in addition to ^ 

those of his earlier poems that he deemed' ; 
worthy of preservation. This book is Longfellow's first ' 
collection of poems, purposely postponed until after he had \ 
gained experience through translation and prose writing ' 
The volume was received with instant favor. Such poems ; 
as "Hymn to the Night," "A Psalm of Life," '^The : 
Reaper and the Flowers," ** Footsteps of Angels," "The \ 
Beleaguered City," and "Midnight Mass for the Dying I 
Year," are poems of high rank among his works, pos- 
sessing no small measure of the seriousness, simplicity, j 
and beauty that characterize his later work. j 
Ballads and Other Poems, published in 1841, including , 
the well-known "Skeleton in Armor," "The Wreck of the j 
Hesperus," "The Rainy Day," " Maiden- | 

"^^"^^'^''^„ hood," and "Excelsior," confirmed the ' 
Other Poems" . ^ ^ , n 

promise given by the poet s nrst volume, j 

and hidicated clearly a marked growth of power. | 

The agitation over the slavery question, prominent , 

during the years 1840-1860, reached even Longfellow's 

quiet study. He shared with other j 

" oems on writers of the period a strong anti- ! 

slavery spirit, but his Poems on Slavery, ^ 

appearing in 1842, cannot be classed with Whittier's ' 



Longfellow, the Alan and the Poet 19 

or Lowell's on the same subject. Few in number and 
tame in spirit, they indicate merely a scholar's disap- 
proval of an existing evil, rather than an attitude of 
strong opposition held by a man active in reforms. 

The volumes that follov/ed in the next four years, The 
Spanish Student in 1843, The Poets and Poetry of Europe 

edited and published in 1845, 
"The Spanish Student" ^nd The Belfnj of Bruges and 

"Poets and Poetry of Europe" ^,, j^ . -lOir i 

„^, ^ ,j, .^ Other Poems m 184(), show 

"The Belfry of Bruges 

and Other Poems" better than any other of his 

works the extent to which his 
poetry owes its origin to his scholarly knowledge of the 
old-world spirit and literature. Several of the lyrics in 
the last mentioned volume, however, such as "The 
Bridge," "The Day is Done," and "The Old Clock on 
the Stairs," reflect the personal tone of his earlier 
poems. 

Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie, published in 1847, 
marked an epoch in the poet's literary career. Prior to 

the writing of Evangeline, literature 
"Evangeline" seems to have been with him a scholar's 

avocation; henceforth it was to be his 
vocation. He had reached the age of forty, and in the full 
maturity of his powers, he wrote a poem which, because of 
its theme, its scope, its extent and character, stamped him 
as a distinctively American poet. The instant success 
of the poem determined for him that his future career 
should not be divided between literature and the profes- 



20 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

sor's chair, but that it should be concerned wholly with 
literature. 

During the remaining years of his professorship, we find 
him constantly . rebelling against the tyranny of college 
routine and desiring freedom for writing. 
Retirement Accordingly, in 1854, he resigned the 

chair made famous by the three who have 
filled it, — George Ticknor, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 
and James Russell Lowell. 

In 1855, the year following his retirement, appeared The 
Song of Hiawatha. This was followed by TJie Courtship 
"The Song of ^/ ^'^'^^c^ Standish in 1858. Both are 

Hiawatha" narratives of considerable extent and im- 

"The Courtship of portance, and show the poet's wide range 
Miles Standish" ^^ subject-matter and his versatility of 
manner. 

The famous old Craigie House on Brattle Street, where 
the poet had taken rooms upon his first coming to Cam- 
bridge, had come into his possession 

^ . . „ after his second marriac;e, to Frances 

Craigie House . . 

Elizabeth Appleton in 1843, and here, 
surrounded by family and friends, the poet spent the best 
years of his life in the quiet pursuits of literature, — reading, 
absorbing, writing. The record of this part of his life is 
best read in the long list of works produced during these 
years. Always busy, he was never too busy to devote 
much time to his family and the host of friends who 
besieged him in season and out. His hospitality knew 



LongfelUw, the Man and the Poet 21 

no bounds; he was constantly entertaining strangers of 
distinction and passing guests, as well as his inmost circle 
of friends, and Craigie House became a synonym for hos- 
pitality. His circle of friends was great in more than one 
sense, for it included some of America's most famous men, 
among whom may be mentioned Ticknor, Fields, Felton, 
Sumner, Holmes, Child, Curtis, and others. Mrs. Long- 
fellow, the sweet and graceful hostess, contributed her 
share to the charming social atmosphere that surrounded 
the poet in these years of leisurely work and joy. 

Into the happiness of his quiet domestic life a dreadful 
calamity fell suddenly like a bolt from the clearest sky. 
In July, ISGl, his wife was horribly 
o burned while engaged in sealing some 

packages containing curls of her little 
daughters. Her death, as well as the manner of it, was a 
dreadful shock to the poet, but he bore his grief with the 
calmness characteristic of a great soul. AVhat he suffered 
the rest of his life may be felt from reading the random 
notes in his journal, and occasional references in his 
poems, particularly his Sonnet, "The Cross of Snow," writ- 
ten eighteen years afterwards. 

In the long, sleepless watches of the night, 
A gentle face — the face of one long dead — 
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head 
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light. 
Here in this room she died; and soul more white 
Never through martyrdom of fire was led 
To its repose; nor can in books be read 
The legend of a life more benedight 



22 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

There is a mountain in the distant West 

That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines 

Displays a cross of snow upon its side. 
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast 

These eighteen years, through all the changing scenes 

And seasons, changeless since the day she died. 

Though shadowed by this sorrow, he did not allow him- 
self to be crushed by it, but with calm energy resumed 
his life among his books. He continued his regular con- 
tributions to the "Atlantic Monthly"; in 18G3 appeared 
"Tales of a ^^^ ^^'^* P^^^ ^^ Tales of a Wayside Inn, 

Wayside Inn" the l)est part of that series ; and his Trans- 
■ "Translation of the lation of Daniels Divine Comedy, one of 
Divine Comedy j^j^ jQost ambitious and most successful 
accomplishments, was begun and completed during the 
years 1865-1870. 

During his last visit to Europe, in 1868, in company 
with his daughters, he was welcomed everywhere and 
greeted with an enthusiasm akin to love. The universities 
of Oxford and Cambridge conferred 
Last Years their highest honorary degrees upon him ; 

he was received by the Queen; he met 
and learned to know his great English literary contempo- 
raries. And he received his honors with the modesty 
characteristic of the man. 

He returned home the next year, and took up the old 
life at Craigie House. In the last decade of his life he 
wrote or completed what he considered his best works, 
among which should be mentioned The Hanrjincj of the 



Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 23 

Crane, A Book of Sonnets, and the trilogy of the Christus, 
including The Divine Tragedy, The Golden Legend, and 
The New England Tragedies. For the celebration of the 
fiftieth anniversary of his graduation from Bowdoin Col- 
lege, he wrote "Morituri Salutamus," a stirring message on 
the opportunities of age. 

In 1881 his health began to fail, and in 1882 the end 
came quickly. The accompaniments of old age, 'honor, 
love, and troops of friends,' were his, and his life ended in 
a calm joy of completeness. He died March 24, 1882. 

II. Critical 

Longfellow may well be called America's most popular 
poet. Popularity is by no means the final test of a writer's 

greatness, but here the test has a peculiar 
Popularity fitness, for it is as the poet of the peoj^le 

that the author of **A Psalm of Life," 
"The Village Blacksmith," ''Evangeline," and "The 
Courtship of Miles Standish, " must be judged. 

The chief sources of Longfellow's popularity are to be 
found in his simple thoughts and in his easy and graceful 
style. He chose no puzzling themes; he had no philo- 
sophical message to deliver; he preferred the simple, even 
what might be called the common-place themes of nature, 
translated in terms of human sentiment. In the "Pre- 
lude," which he prefixed to his first collection of poems, 



24 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

1 

Voices of the Nig Jit, the young poet clearly recognized his 
field of poetry and the sources of his inspiration : i 

Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, ', 

Not mountains capped with snow, i 

Nor forests sounding like the sea, j 

Nor rivers flowing ceaselessly, j 

Where the woodlands bend to see j 

The bending heavens below. i 

There is a forest where the din ' 

Of iron branches sounds! i 

A mighty river roars between, 

And whosoever looks therein ^ 

Sees the heavens all black with sin, 
Sees not its depths, nor bounds. 

Athwart the swinging branches cast. 

Soft rays of sunshine pour; 
Then comes the fearful wintry blast; 
Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast; 
PalHd lips say, 'It is past! 

We can return no more! ' 

Look, then, into thine heart, and write! 

Yes, into Life's deep stream! 
All forms of sorrow and delight, 
All solemn Voices of the Night, 
That can soothe thee, or affright, — 

Be these henceforth thy theme. 

This implied promise to make himself a poet of the 
heart, he held throughout his career, and from the first 
he showed a style eminently fitted to his themes, — a style 
simple, clear, and beautiful. It adorned the common- 



Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 25 

place and raised prosaic material into the realms of the 
imagination. The result is that simplicity which has 
given him the titles, "Fireside Poet," 
Simplicity *' Children's Poet," " Poet of the People." 

and Sincerity We may call it a limitation, but the limits 

are as broad as the two continents, and 
extend to w^herever hearts are touched and sentiments 
aroused. For simplicity implies sincerity, and no poet 
was ever more obviously sincere than Longfellow. lie 
never wrote for the purpose of making an effect. His 
verse is the language of one heart speaking to another. 
No one knew better than he *'the grand old masters" and 
*'the bards sublime," and their "mighty thoughts that sug- 
gested life's endless toil and endeavor;" but it was the 
"humbler poet whose songs gushed from his heart" that 
soothed and satisfied him. And like these humbler poets 
he gained his place through characteristics discerned more 
by the feelings than by means of the principles of 
criticism. 

It is in his shorter poems that Longfellow's personality 
best shows itself. These poems are chiefly lyrical, and 
therefore afford opportunity for frank self- 
Lyrics expression. In "The Bridge," "Foot- 
steps of Angels," "The Day is Done," 
"Resignation," "The Two Angels," "My Lost Youth," 
"The Cross of Snow," and many others, the personal tone 
is so marked that the poems may justly be called verse 
meditations. "The Village Blacksmith" and "The Old 



26 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Clock on the Stairs," though the themes are general in 
their application, have j^i the local and personal touch. 
In "The Builders" we feel that the poet is in the lines, 
not only encouraging us to climb to higher levels but in- 
cluding himself as well in the exhortation. 

Let us do our work as well, 

Both the unseen and the seen; 
Make the house, where Gods may dwell, 

Beautiful, entire, and clean. 

Else our hves are incomplete, 

Standing in these walls of Time, 
Broken stairways, where the feet 

Stumble as they seek to climb. 

Build to-day, then, strong and sure. 

With a firm and ample base; 
And ascending and secure 

Shall to-morrow find its place. 

Thus alone can we attain 

To those turrets, where the eye 
Sees the world as one vast plain, 

And one boundless reach of sky. 

His lyrics are characterized by a wholesome moralizing; 
the sentiments, in spite of what harsh criticism might call 
their common-placeness, are inspiring and helpful. The 
sonnets are among his best lyrical work, and, judged by 
any standard, rank with the best in any literature. 

Though Longfellow's personality is best shown in the 



Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 27 

lyrics, the narrative poems constitute perhaps his most 
considerable achievement. If we include 
Narratives his Translation of Dante's Divine Com- 

edy, more than half his work is narrative. 
The narratives brought together in the present volume 
represent his best poetic work. They cover a wide scope, 
including as they do, the ballads with their characteristic 
sweep, the more slowly-moving romance, the humorous 
sketch of Colonial life, the long legends in epic style, and 
the simple metrical tales. But they have other merits 
than variety and scope. It is the business of a narra- 
tive to tell a story. The demands made by the reader are 
simple but more or less exacting: the plot must move 
forward with ease and directness; the descriptive parts 
must not be thrown in merely for the purpose of giving 
vivid pictures, but must form an integral part of the story; 
and lastly, the characters must not be mere animated 
abstractions, but must live and act as persons would natur- 
ally act in the given situations. Longfellow knew well 
the demands that would be made upon his narratives, and 
he satisfied them with the charm of a master of the art. 
The Skeleton in Armor, Evangeline, The Courtship of 
Miles Standish, and the Tales of a Wayside Inn, have 
enriched our literature with some of the best narratives in 
the English language. 

Longfellow was least happy in his dramatic works. 
They are, as a class, far below the standard of his other 
poems. *'The Spanish Student," his first attempt at 



28 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

drama may be classed with his best works in this form, 
"The Golden Legend" and ''Michael Angelo." The tril- 
ogy of Christiis, in which he finally com- 
Dramas bined "The Divine Tragedy," "The 

Golden Legend," and "The New England 
Tragedies," represents his most ambitious dramatic work. 
The parts are of varying merit, "The Golden Legend" 
being the only part which he brought to adequate develop- 
ment. 

In general, Longfellow's works, even those on nature, 
have the flavor of the library. As with his own Student 
Longfellow's ^^^ ^^^^ Talcs of a Wayside Inn, his in- 

Place in spiration was the culture that came from 

Literature a wide acquaintance with books. Steeped 

in the spirit of old-world legend and song, he enriched 
our literature with a cosmopolitan literary culture. Ob- 
serve the significance of these titles, — "The Beleaguered 
City," "The Belfry of Bruges," "Nuremburg," "To 
an Old Danish Song-Book," "Walter von der Vogel- 
weid," "King Witlaf's Drinking Horn," "Gaspar Be- 
cerra," "Tegner's Drapa," "The Blind Girl of Castel- 
Cuille;" and note his many translations from the 
Spanish, the German, the Danish, the French, and the 
Anglo-Saxon. This world-wide interest accounts for his 
remarkable versatility. It likewise exposed him to the 
criticism that he was a "smooth-throated mocking bird 
warbling foreign melodies." Other critics brought forth 
graver charges of plagiarism, founded on his well-known 

i 



Longfellow, the Man and the Poet 29 

habit of assimilating what others had written and giving 
it forth in a new and different form. Knowing that what 
he did was perfectly honorable, he neither answered his 
critics nor sought to hide the sources of his inspiration. 
Longfellow was not a poet of marked originality or, 
indeed, of great poetic insight ; he did not explore the depths 
or reach the heights of imaginative fancy; the spark of 
genius akin to madness never touched his pen. But his 
work has its own obvious merits. He was a natural singer, 
essentially a melodist. Ahvays calm, serene, dignified, 
imbued with a love of all things beautiful, versed in the 
lore of the Past, and actuated by a never failing human 
sympathy, he touched the harp and sang with such tender- 
ness that 

All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music; 
For he sang of peace and freedom, 

Sang of beauty, love, and longing; 
Sang of death, and hfe undying 
In the Islands of the Blessed, 
In the kingdom of Ponemah, 
In the land of the Hereafter. 

Though Longfellow is conceded to be America's most 
popular poet, there is a tendency among his critics to 
underestimate his real worth. They complain that he has 
not the poetic fire of Byron or Keats; that he has no mes- 



30 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

sa"ge such as Tennyson or Browning had; that he lacks 
the depth and passion of his own American contemporaries. 
So be it; but hke the prophet of old, in looking for the wind 
and the earthquake and the fire, they neglect the still small 
voice. Moreover, the debt we owe to Longfellow no one 
can gainsay. We may outgrow our youthful fondness for 
the poet who first taught us to love poetry; we may even 
venture to criticize harshly the works which, in spite of 
faults, memory still holds dear; but we should not forget 
to be grateful for his wholesome influence in the forma- 
tive stage of our literary taste. To regard Longfellow as 
a poet of the first order is to confuse literary values; but 
to scorn his merits and to depreciate his work because it 
is merely simple and tender and beautiful, is to be guilty 
of a Pharisaical pedantry akin to ignorance. In his works, 
as in his life, he was the gentle Longfellow, — and gentle- 
ness is one of the elements of true greatness. 



CHRONOLOGICAL OUTLL\E ' 

Biographical 

1807. February 27. Born at Portland, Maine. 
1816-1822. At school in Portland. 
1822. Entered Bowdoin College, Brunswick, Maine. 
1825. Graduated with degree of B. A. 

1825. Elected Professor of Modern Languages at Bow- 

doin. 

1826. June,-1829, August. Travelled in Europe, studying 

modern European languages. 
1829. September. Assumed professorial duties at Bowdoin. 
1831. September. Married to Mary Storer Potter. 

1834. December. Elected Smith Professor of Modern 

Languages at Harvard. 

1835. April-1836, December. Travelled in Europe. 

1835. November 29. Wife died at Rotterdam, Holland. 

1836. December. Assumed professorial duties at Harvard. 

1842. Autumn. Travelled for health in Europe. 

1843. July 13. Married Frances Elizabeth Appleton. 
1854. Resigned professorship at Harvard for active 

literary life. 

1861. July 9. Mrs. Longfellow burned to death. 

1868-1869. Travelled in Europe. 

1868. June 16. Honorary degree, LL.D., from Cam- 
bridge, England. 

31 



32 Narrative Poems of Longfellow ' 

1869. July 27. Honorary degree, D. C. L. from Oxford. \ 
1882. March 24. Died at his home in Cambridge, Massa- 
chusetts. 

March 26. Buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery, I 
Cambridge. 

Literary 

1821-1826. Newspaper poems. i 

1830. Translation of L'Homond's French Grammar. j 

1831-1840. Contributions to the "North American Re- \ 

view." I 

1832. (In French) Syllabus de la Grammaire Italienne j 

1833. Coplas de Manrique. ; 
1835. Outre Mer, (2 volumes). • ' 
1839. Hyperion, (2 volumes). ' 
1839. Voices of the Night. ] 

1841. Ballads and Other Poems. 

1842. Poems on Slavery. [ 

1843. The Spanish Student. ! 

1845. Poets and Poetry of Europe (Edited). 

1846. The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems. ! 

1847. Evangeline: A Tale of Acadie. ! 

1849. Kavanagh— A Tale. j 

1850. The Seaside and the Fireside. ; 

1851. The Golden Legend. i 

I 

1855. The Song of Hiawatha. j 

1857-1876. Contributions to the "Atlantic Monthly." .^ 

1858. The Courtship of Miles Standish. 



Chronological Outline 33 

1863. Tales of a ^Vavside Inn, Part I. 

1867. FIower-de-Luce. 

1867-1870. Translation of Dante's Divine Comedy, 
(3 volumes). 

1868. The New England Tragedies. 
1872. Christus, including 

The Divine Tragedy, 

The Golden Legend, 

The New England Tragedies. 

1872. Three Books of Song. 

1873. Aftermath. 

1874. The Hanging of the Crane. 

1875. The Masque of Pandora. 

1876-1879. Poems of Places, (Edited, in 31 volumes). 

1877. Poems of the "Old South," (with Holmes, Whittier, 

and others). 

1878. Keramos. 
1880. Ultima Thule. 

Posthumous. 
1882. In the Harbor. 
1884. Michael Angelo. 



BIBLIOGRAPHY 
Editions 

The only complete editions of the works of Longfellow 
are published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, Boston. 
They arc: 

Standard Library Edition, Complete Poetical and Prose 
Works, eleven volumes. 

Cambridge Edition, Complete Poetical Works, one 
volume. 

Household Edition, Poetical Works excluding Divina 
Commedia, one volume. 

Biography and Criticism 

The best life of Longfellow is that written by his brother, 
Samuel Longfellow, containing extracts from his journal 
and letters, published by Houghton, Mifflin and Company, 
three volumes. 

Other books on Longfellow are : 

Higginson's Henry Wads worth Longfellow, in the 
"American Men of Letters" series. 

Robertson's Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, in the 
"Great Writers" series. 

Carpenter's Longfellow, in the "Beacon Biographies." 

Norton's Memoir and Autobiographical Poems. 

Gannett's Studies in Longfellow. 

34 



Bibliography 35 

The following books contain chapters on Longfellow, 
critical accounts, etc.: 

Newcomer's American Literature. 

Stedman's Poets of America. 

Curtis's Literary and Social Essays. 

Higginson's Old Cambridge. 

Stoddard's Poets' Homes. 

Richardson's American Literature. 

Scudder's Men and Letters. 

Howells's Literary Friends and Acquaintances. 

Lang's Letters on Literature. 

Whipple's Essays and Reviews. 

Mrs. Fields's Authors and Friends. 

Winter's Old Shrines and Ivy. 

Wendell's Literary Llistory of America. 



INTRODUCTION TO THE BALLADS 

The volume of 1841, Ballads and Other Poems, is in 

striking contrast with the sentimental musings of the 

poet's first published volume of poems, 

a as an Voices of the Night, and indeed struck a 

Other Poems" /• i p i i ^ - . , 

jg.j note which tor depth and mtensity he 

rarely equalled. 
*'The Skeleton in Armor" shows well the poet's happy 
faculty of seizing upon a slight suggestion and working it 
out with the fertile inventiveness of the 
"The Skeleton true poet. In a note appended to the 
in Armor" volume of 1841, the poet gives an inter- 

esting account of the origin of this poem. 

"This Ballad was suggested to me while riding on the 
sea-shore at Newport. A year or two previous a skeleton 
had been dug up at Fall River, clad in broken and corroded 
armor; and the idea occurred to me of connecting it with 
the Round Tower at Newport, generally known hitherto as 
the Old Windmill, though novv^ claimed by the Danes as a 
work of their early ancestors. Professor Rafn, in the 
M ^moires de la Socieie Roy ale des Antiquaires du Nord, for 
1838-1839, says:— 

" 'There is no mistaking in this instance the style in which 
the more ancient stone edifices of the North were con- 
structed, — the style which belongs to the Roman or Ante- 
Gothic architecture, and which, especially after the time of 
Charlemagne, diffused itself from Italy over the whole of 

3G 



Introduction to the Ballads 37 

the West and North of Europe, where it continued to 
predominate until the close of the twelfth century, — that 
style which some authors have, from one of its most striking 
characteristics, called the round arch style, the same which 
in England is denominated Saxon and sometimes Norman 
architecture. 

** 'On the ancient structure in Newport there are no orna- 
ments remaining, which might possibly have served to 
guide us in assigning the probable date of its erection. 
That no vestige whatever is found of the pointed arch, nor 
any approximation to it, is indicative of an earlier rather than 
of a later period. From such characteristics as remain, 
however, we can scarcely form any other inference than 
one, in which I am persuaded that all who are familiar 
with Old-Northern architecture will concur, that this 

BUILDING W^AS ERECTED AT A PERIOD DECIDEDLY NOT 

LATER THAN THE TW^ELFTH CENTURY. This remark 
applies, of course, to the original building only, and not to 
the alterations that it subsequently received; for there are 
several such alterations in the upper part of the building 
which cannot be mistaken, and which were most likely 
occasioned by its being adapted in modern times to various 
uses; for example, as the substructure of a windmill, and 
latterly as a hay magazine. To the same times may be 
referred the windows, the fireplace, and the apertures made 
above the columns. That this building could not have 
been erected for a windmill, is what an architect will easily 
discern.' 

"I will not enter into a discussion of the point. It is 
sufficiently well established for the purpose of a ballad ; 
though doubtless many a citizen of Newport, who has 
passed his days within sight of the Round Tower, will be 
ready to exclaim, with Sancho: 'God bless me! did I not 
warn you to have a care of what you were doing, for that 



38 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

it was nothing but a windmill; and nobody could mistake 
it, but one who had the like in his head.' " 

Whether or not there is any connection between the 
Tower and they Norse explorers, of America matters little; 
at any rate, **The Skeleton in Armor" is notable among 
modern ballads. The subject-matter is strikingly ro- 
mantic, and the general tone of the poem is characteristic 
of the far-away land of the North. In its onward sweep 
and stirring meter, it has a moving power little inferior to 
that of Drayton's ''Agincourt." 

A letter of the poet's addressed to Mr. Charles Lanman 
gives his own account of the circum- 
-., TT „ stances under which the second ballad 

was written. 

Cambridge, November 24, 1871. 

My dear Sir, — Last night I had the pleasure of receiving 
your friendly letter and the beautiful pictures that came 
with it, and I thank you cordially for the welcome gift and 
the kind remembrance that prompted it. They are both 
very interesting to me; particularly the Reef of Norman's 
Woe. What you say of the ballad is also very gratifying, 
and induces me to send you in return a bit of autobiog- 
raphy. 

Looking over a journal for 1839, a few days ago, I found 
the following entries: — 

"December 17. — News of shipwrecks, horrible, on the 
coast. Forty bodies washed ashore near Gloucester. One 
woman lashed to a piece of wreck. There is a reef called 
Norman's Woe, where many of these took place. Among 



Introduction to the Ballads 39 

others the schooner Hesperus. Also, the Seaflower, on 
Black Rock. I >vill write a ballad on this. 

"December 30. — Wrote last evening a notice of Allston's 
poems, after which sat till 1 o'clock by the fire, smoking; 
when suddenly it came into my head to write the Ballad of 
the Schooner Hesperus, which I accordingly did. Then 
went to bed, but could not sleep. New thoughts were 
running in my mind, and I got up to add them to the Ballad. 
It was 3 by the clock." 

All this is of no importance but to myself. However, I 
like sometimes to recall the circumstances under which a 
poem w^as written, and as you express a liking for this one 
it may perhaps interest you to know why and when and 
how it came into existence. I had quite forgotten about 
its first publication; but I find a letter from Park Benjamin, 
dated January 7, 1840, beginning (you will recognize his 
style) as follows: — 

''Your ballad. The Wreck of The Hesperus, is grand. 
Inclosed are twenty-five dollars (the sum you mentioned) 
for it, paid by the proprietors of "The New World," in 
which glorious paper it will resplendently coruscate on 
Saturday next." 

Pardon this gossip, and believe me, with renewed 
thanks, yours faithfully, 

Henry W. Longfellow. 

The meter employed in "The Wreck of the Hesperus" 
is the regular ballad-stanza, i. e., a stanza, of four iambic 
lines tetrameter and trimeter alternating, the second and 
fourth lines rhyming. Though it lacks the sweep of "The 
Skeleton in Armor," the poem remains a favorite because 
of its human interest and ballad-like simplicity. 



BALLADS 



THE SKELETON IN ARMOR 

"Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! 
Who, with thy hollow breast 
Still in rude armor drest, 
Comest to daunt me! 
5 Wrapt not in Eastern balms, 

But with thy fleshless palms 
Stretched, as if asking alms. 
Why dost thou haunt me?" 

Then, from those cavernous eyes 
10 Pale flashes seemed to rise, 

As when the Northern skies 

Gleam in December; 
And, like the water's flow 
Under December's snow, 
15 Came a dull voice of woe 

From the heart's chamber. 

"I was a Viking old! 
H My deeds, though manifold, 
No Skald in song has told, 
20 No Saga taught thee! 

Take heed, that in thy verse 
Thou dost the tale rehearse. 
Else dread a dead man's curse; 
For this I sought thee. 

25 "Far in the Northern Land, 

By the wild Baltic's strand, 
I, with my childish hand. 

Tamed the gerfalcon; 
And, with my skates fast-bound, 
30 Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, 

That the poor whimpering hound 
Trembled to walk on. 

40 



The Skeleton in Armor 41 



"Oft to his frozen lair 
Tracked I the grisly bear, 

35 While from my path the hare 

Fled like a shadow; 
Oft through the forest dark 
Followed the were-wolf's bark, 
Until the soaring lark 

40 Sang from the meadow. 

"But when I older grew, 
Joining a corsair's crew, 
O'er the dark sea I flew 

With the marauders. 
45 Wild was the life we led; 

Many the souls that sped. 
Many the hearts that bled, 

By our stern orders. 

" Many a wassail-bout 
50 Wore the long Winter out; 

Often our midnight shout 

Set the cocks crowing, 

As we the Berserk's tale 

Measured in cups of ale, 

55 . Draining the oaken pail, 

Filled to o'erflowing. 

"Once as I told in glee 
Tales of the stormy sea, 
Soft eyes did gaze on me, 
60 Burning yet tender; 

And as the white stars shine 
On the dark Norway pine. 
On that dark heart of mine 
Fell their soft splendor. 

65 "I wooed the blue-eyed maid, 

Yielding, yet half afraid. 
And in the forest's shade 

Our vows were plighted. 
Under its loosened vest 

70 Fluttered her little breast, 



42 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ 

Like birds within their nest 

By the hawk frighted. | 

"Bright in her father's hall ^ 

Shields gleamed upon the wall, i 

75 Loud sang the minstrels all, ] 

Chanting his glory; ' 

When of old Hildebrand 

I asked his daughter's hand, ' 

Mute did the minstrels stand 

80 To hear my story. , 

"While the brown ale he quaffed, 
Loud then the champion laughed, 
And as the wind-gusts waft 

The sea-foam brightly, | 

85 So the loud laugh of scorn, 

Out of those lips unshorn, , 

From the deep drinking-horn | 

Blew the foam lightly. 

"She was a Prince's child, i 

90 I but a Viking wild, ' 1 

And though she blushed and smiled, 

I was discarded! ' 

Should not the dove so white i 

Follow the sea-mew's flight, 
95 Why did they leave that night ! 

Her nest unguarded? 

i 

"Scarce had I put to sea, 

Bearing the maid with me, : 

Fairest of all was she ; 

100 Among the Norsemen! 

When on the white sea-strand, | 

Waving his armed hand, J 

Saw we old Hildebrand, ! 

With twenty horsemen. 

I 

105 "Then launched they to the blast, | 

Bent like a reed each mast, 1 



The Skeleton in Armor 43 



Yet we were gaining fast, 
When the wind failed us; 

And with a sudden flaw 
110 Came round the gusty Skaw, 

So that our foe we saw 
Laugh as he hailed us. 

" And as to catch the gale 
Round veered the flapping sail, 

115 ^ Death! was the helmsman's hail 

Death without quarter! 
Mid-ships with iron keel 
Struck we her ribs of steel; 
Down her black hulk did reel 

120 Through the black water! 

"As with his wings aslant, 
Sails the fierce cormorant. 
Seeking some rocky haunt, 

With his prey laden, 
125 So toward the open main, 

Beating to sea again. 
Through the wild hurricane. 

Bore I the maiden. 

"Three weeks we westward bore, 
130 And when the storm was o'er. 

Cloud-like we saw the shore 

Stretching to leeward; 
There for my lady's bower 
Built I the lofty tower, 
135 Which, to this very hour. 

Stands looking seaward. 

"There lived we many years; 
Time dried the maiden's tears; 
She had forgot her fears, 
140 She was a mother; 

Death closed her mild blue eyes, 
Under that tower she lies; 
Ne'er shall the sun arise 
On such another! 



44 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

145 "Still grew my bosom then, 

Still as a stagnant fen! 
Hateful to me were men, 

The sunlight hateful. 
In the vast forest here, 
150 Clad in my warlike gear. 

Fell I upon my spear, 
O, death was grateful 1 

"Thus, seamed with many scars 
Bursting these prison bars, 

155 Up to its native stars 

My soul ascended! 
There from the flowing bowl 
Deep drinks the warrior's soul, 
Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!" 

160 — ^Thus the talc ended. 



THE WRECK OF THE HESPERUS 

It was the schooner Hesperus, 

That sailed the wintry sea; 
And the skipper had taken his little daughter, 

To bear him company. 

5 Blue were her eyes as the fairy-flax, 

Her cheeks like the dawn of day. 
And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, 
That ope in the month of May. 

The skipper he stood beside the helm, 
10 His pipe was in his mouth, 

And he watched how the veering flaw did blow 
The smoke now West, now South. 

Then up and spake an old Sail6r, 
Had sailed the Spanish Main, 
15 "I pray thee, put into yonder port, 

For I fear a hurricane. 



The Wreck of the Hesperus 45 

"Last night, the moon had a golden ring, 

And to-night no moon we see!" 
The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, 
20 And a scornful laugh laughed he. 

Colder and louder blew the wind, 

A gale from the Northeast; 
The snow fell hissing in the brine, 

And the billows frothed like yeast. 

25 Down came the storm, and smote amain. 

The vessel in its strength; 
She shuddered and paused, like a frighted steed, 
Then leaped her cable's length. 

"Come hither! come hither! my Httle daughter, 
30 And do not tremble so; 

For I can weather the roughest gale, 
That ever wind did blow." 

He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat 
Against the stinging blast; 
35 He cut a rope from a broken spar, 

And bound her to the mast. 

"O father! I hear the church-bells ring, 

O say, what may it be?" 
" 'T is a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast!" — 
40 And he steered for the open sea. 

"O father! I hear the sound of guns, 

O say, what may it be?" 
"Some ship in distress, that cannot live 

In such an angry sea!" 

45 "O father! I see a gleaming light, 

O say, what may it be?" 
But the father answered never a word, 
A frozen corpse was he. 

Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, 
50 With his face turned to the skies, 



46 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow 
On his fixed and glassy eyes. 

Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed 
That saved she might be; 
55 And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, 

On the Lake of Galilee. 

And fast through the midnight dark and drear, 

Through the whistling sleet and snow. 
Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept 
60 Towards the reef of Norman's Woe. 

And ever the fitful gusts between, 

A sound came from the land; 
It was the sound of the trampling surf, 

On the rocks and the hard sea-sand. 

65 The breakers were right beneath her bows, 

She drifted a dreary wreck, 
And a whooping billow swept the crew 
Like icicles from her deck. 

She struck where the white and fleecy waves 
70 Looked soft as carded wool. 

But the cruel rocks, they gored her side 
Like the horns of an angry bull. 

Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, 
With the masts went by the board; 
75 Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank, 

Ho! ho! the breakers roared! 

At daybreak on the bleak sea-beach, 

A fisherman stood aghast. 
To see the form of a maiden fair, 
80 Lashed close to a drifting mast. 

The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 

The salt tears in her eyes ; 
And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, 

On the billows fall and rise. 



The Wreck of iJic Hesperus 47 

85 Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, 

In the midnight and the snow! 
Christ save us all from a death like this, 
On the reef of Norman's Woel 



INTRODUCTION TO EVANGELINE: A TALE 

OF ACADIE 

The circumstances attending the writing of Evangeline 

are heightened in interest because they bring into relation 

two of the most interesting names in 

, ?5 American Hterature, — Hawthorne and 

of Theme ' 

Longfellow, The poet's college class- 
mate and life-long friend always felt something of a god- 
father's interest in the poem : the first review of the poem 
was by Hawthorne in a Salem paper, and in a personal 
letter to Longfellow he said that he had read the poem 
''with more pleasure than it would be decorous to ex- 
press." Longfellow's reply is interesting: "... Still 
more do I thank you for resigning to me that legend of 
Acady. This success I owe entirely to you, for being will- 
ing to forego the pleasure of writing a prose tale which 
many people would have taken for poetry, that I might 
write a poem which many people take for prose." 

Hawthorne did in fact know of the legend before I^ong- 
fellow. In the former's American Note-Books we read 
as follows: 

"H. L. C. heard from a French Canadian a story of a 
young couple in Acadie. On their marriage-day all the 
men of the province were summoned to assemble in the 
church to hear a proclamation. When assembled, they 

48 • 



Introduction to Evangeline 49 

were all seized and shipped off to be distributed through 
New England, — among them the new bridegroom. His 
bride set off in search of him — wandered about New Eng- 
land all her life-time, and at last when she was old, she 
found her bridegroom on his death-bed. The shock was. 
so great that it killed her likewise." 

"H. L. C." was the Reverend H. L. Conolly. One day 
at a dinner at Longfellow's house he recounted the story 
as he had heard it from one of his parishioners, and told 
the poet that he had been urging Hawthorne, then present, 
to write a romance on that theme, but that the material 
was not such as to appeal to him. '*If you do not care 
for it, let me have it," said Longfellow. 

Entries in his diary late in 1845 show that work had 
begun on the poem. 

"November 28, 1845. Set about Gabrielle, my idyl in 
hexameters, in earnest. 

** December 7. I know not what name to give to my new 
poem. Shall it be Gabrielle, or Celestine, or Evangeline? " 

The beginning of the story takes us back to the later 
years of the great struggle between France and England 
for supremacy in India and in the New 
<. . World. Nova Scotia, formerly called by 

the French Acadie, had been ceded by 
France to England by the Peace of Utrecht, 1713, but 
the inhabitants of the peninsula, French farmers and 
fishermen, were not required to take the oath of allegiance 
to the English crown. The English government's control 



50 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

over them was only nominal, and for forty years they were 
treated as neutrals. In 1749, the English planted a colony 
at Halifax on the opposite side of the peninsula from 
Grand Pre. The jealousy which soon arose between the 
two factions was only natural, for the French settlers were 
still French in sympathy both by blood and by religion and 
the vagueness of boundaries left by the terms of the Peace 
of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, precipitated trouble between the 
French and English settlers. In the consequent struggle, 
the Acadians, although neutrals, suffered quite as much 
as their French brethren of the mainland. 

How to treat the Acadians was a difficult problem for the 
English Governor of the Province and the Lieutenant- 
Colonel in charge of the New England 
*! ^* troops that had been dispatched there to 

Acadiaus protect the English interests. The Eng- 

lish settlers desired the Acadians' fertile 
lands; and moved by the differences in race and religion 
hoped for their expulsion; but to require their removal 
to French Canada would only strengthen the hands of the 
enemy. Accordingly, it was secretly decided by the au- 
thorities that the Acadians should be removed from the 
coimtry and distributed among the English Colonies to 
the southward. The pretexts for such a course were these : 
the Acadians had refused to take the oath of allegiance; 
although they had affected the character of neutrals, in 
reality "they had furnished the French and Indians with 
intelligence, quarter, provisions, and assistance in annoy- 



Introduction to Evangeline 51 

ing the Government of the Province;" and finally, three 
hundred of them had actually been found in arms at the 
capture of Fort Beau Sejour. 

The execution of the sentence required cunning and 
subtle severity. The duty, allotted to the New England 
forces, was undertaken by Lieutenant-Colonel John Wins- 
low and Captain Alexander Murray. A proclamation 
worded in ambiguous but peremptory language,^ was 
issued to the several districts, in response to which on Sep- 
tember 5, 1755, four hundred and eighteen men assem- 
bled in the Church at Grand Pre to hear "his Majesty's 
intentions." In a speech,^ the Colonel, with some pre- 
tense of humanity and with much severity, announced the 
plan of removal. As prisoners, the Acadian men were 
guarded in the church by soldiers for four days, and on 
September 10, accompanied by all the other inhabitants, 
they were marched to the shore and placed on board the 
transports. In the confusion and excitement, although 
care was exercised to see that families should be kept 
together, husbands and wives and children were often in 
different vessels, and, in more than one case, members of 
families never saw each other again. The colonies re- 
ceiving the exiles were Massachusetts, Connecticut, New- 
York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, 
and Georgia. In their vain efforts to return to Acadia, 
many of the exiles wandered throughout the country. 

*See note on line 239 of Evangeline, p. 391. 
*See note on lines 432-441 of Evangeline, p. 393. 



52 Narrative Poems of Lojigfellow 

And thus was carried out by the EngKsh government 
this exile *' without example in story," — an act, wholly 
unnecessary, that must forever remain a blot in the his- 
tory of the nation that caused it. 

Evangeline is neither a history nor a book of travels, 

but there is so much about it that is both historical and 

ffeoffraphical, that the sources of the 
The Poet's , ! 

. ., .^. poet's material are worthy of attention. 

Authorities ^ ■{ 

Part I. follows closely Haliburton's His- 
torical and Statistical Account oj Nova Scotia and Abbe 
Raynal's account, in French, of the life in Acadia. The 
poetical descriptions in the first part of the poem are only 
a little more highly colored than the French Abbe's prose 
account. The poet was never in Nova Scotia, but he suc- 
ceeded in picturing the scenes in such a way that travellers 
pronounce them very accurate. With reference to the 
sources and suggestions, Longfellow's own words are 
interesting. 

In his diary of 1846, two entries occur which throw some 
light on the descriptive parts of Evangeline's wanderings 
in Part II. 

''December 17 I see a diorama of the Missis- 
sippi advertised. This comes very a propos. The river 
comes to me instead of my going to the river; and as it is 
to flow through the pages of the poem, I look upon this as 
a special benediction." 

"December 19. Went to see Banvard's moving dio- 
rama of the Mississippi. One seems to be sailing down 
the great stream, and sees the boats and sand-banks crested 



Introduction to Evangeline 53 

with Cottonwood, and the bayous by moonlight. Three 
miles of canvas, and a great deal of merit." 

The scene of the closing incident w^as based on a rem- 
iniscence of a visit to Philadelphia which he afterwards 
gave to a Philadelphia journalist. 

**Iwas passing down Spruce Street one day toward my 
hotel, after a w^alk, when my attention was attracted to a 
large building with beautiful trees about it, inside of a 
high inclosure. I walked along until I came to the great 
gate, and then stepped inside, and looked carefully over 
the place. The charming picture of lawn, flower-beds, 
and shade which it presented made an impression which 
has never left me, and when I came to write Evangeline I 
placed the final scene, the meeting between Evangeline and 
Gabriel and the death, at the poor-house, and the burial 
in an old Catholic grave-yard not far away, which I found 
by chance in another of my walks." 

Goethe's Hermann unci Dorothea has often been called 
the model of Evangeline, but it is doubtful if such a rela- 
"Hennannund ^^^^ ^^^ ^^ established between the two 
Dorothea" — poems. Both poems, to be sure, are 

"Evangeline" not based on true stories of an exile growing 
an Imitation ^^^ ^f poHtical and religious differences, 

and both poems have a love story as the centre of interest; 
but in their working out, they are wholly different, and lead 
to different conclusions. The two poems are in the same 
meter, and it is not at all unUkely that a reading of Her- 
mann und Dorothea might have suggested the meter and 
a few obvious similarities; but Evangeline is too original 



54 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

in its treatment of the theme, too consistently local, to call 
it an imitation of the great German poem. 

The meter of Evangeline is the dactylic hexameter, 
first essayed by the poet in his translation of Tegner's 
Children oj the Lord's Supper, and after- 
The Meter wards used as the verse medium for The 

Courtship of Miles Standish and Eliza- 
hsth. The English hexameter is not the same as the 
classical hexameter of Homer and Vergil. In both Greek 
and Latin the metrical pronunciation is based on verse 
accent depending upon the quantity of vowels, rather than 
upon the customary pronunciation of the words as in Eng- 
lish. But no one with a musical ear can doubt the music 
of Longfellow's hexameter and its fitness to the senti- 
mental, melancholy atmosphere of the poem. Dr. Holmes's 
praise of the meter is not too high: 

"From the first line of the poem, from its first words, 
we read as we would float down a broad and placid river, 
murmuring softly against its banks, heaven over it, and 
the glory of the unspoiled wilderness around. 
'This is the forest primeval.' 
The words are already as familiar as 
yirjVLv detSe Bed, 
or Arma virumque cano. 

The hexameter has been often criticized, but I do not 
believe any other measure could have told that lovely story 
with such effect as we feel when carried along the tranquil 
current of these brimming, slow-moving, soul-satisfying 



Introduction to Evangeline 55 

lines. Imagine for one moment a story like this minced 
into octosyllabics. The poet knows better than his critics 
the length of step which best fits his muse." 

It is not difficult to call Evangeline the best of Long- 
fellow's narrative poems. Beauty, sentiment, pathos, — 

these are the elements found blended in 
p . all his best poetry; and in none of his 

poems are they present in a higher de- 
gree than in Evangeline. "There are flaws and petty 
fancies and homely passages in Evangeline,'' writes Sted- 
man; **but this one poem, thus far the flower of Ameri- 
can idyls, known ^in all lands .... — accept it as the 
poet left it, the mark of our advance at that time in the 
art of song, — his own favorite, of which he justly might 
be fond, since his people loved it with him, and him al- 
ways for its sake." ^ 

'Poets of America. 



EVANGELINE 

A TALE OF ACADIE 

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the 

hemlocks, 
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the 

twilight. 
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, 
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms. 
6 Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest. 

This is the forest primeval; but where are the hearts that be- 
neath it 

Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the voice of 
the huntsman? 

AVhere is the thatch-roofed village, the home of Acadian far- 
mers, — 
10 Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the woodlands, 

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image of 
heaven? 

Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers forever de- 
parted! 

Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts of Octo- 
ber 

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them far o'er 
the ocean. 
15 Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of Grand- 
Pre. 

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is 

patient, 
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion, 
List to the mournful tradition still sung by the pines of the 

forest ; 
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. 

56 



Evangeline 57 

Part the First 

I 

20 In the Acadian land, on the shores of tlie Basin of Minas, 
Distant, sechided, still, the little village of CIrand-Pre 

Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows strc'tehed to the east- 
ward, 

Giving the Village its name, and pasture to (locks without num- 
ber. 

Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor in- 
cessant, 
25 Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood- 
gates 

Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the 
meadows. 

West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and corn- 
fields 

Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the 
northward 

Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains 
30 Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic 

Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their station de- 
scended. 

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the AcacUan village. 

Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chest- 
nut, 

Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the 
Henries. 
35 Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables 
projecting 

Over the basement below protected and shaded the doorway. 

There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the 
sunset 

Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, 

Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in kirtles 
40 Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden 

Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors 

Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of 
the maidens. 

Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the chil- 
dren 



58 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them. 

45 Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and 

maidens, 

Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. 

Then came the laborers home from the field, and serenely the sun 

sank 
Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry 
Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs.of the village 
50 Columns of pale-blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, 
Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and content- 
ment. 
Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, — 
Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from 
Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics. 
55 Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their windows; 
But their dwellings were open ,as day and the hearts of the 

owners; 
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. 

Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the Basin of 

Minas, 
Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand-Prc, 
bO Dwelt on his goodly acres; and with him, directing his house- 
hold. 
Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the village, 
Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy winters; 
Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with snow-flakes; 
White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as brown as the 

oak-leaves. 
65 Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen summers. 

Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the thorn by the 

wayside. 
Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown shade of 

her tresses! 
Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed in the 

meadows. 
When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at noontide 
70 Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah! fair in sooth was the maiden. 
Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell from its 

turret 
Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with his hyssop 
Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon them, 



Evangeline 59 

« 

Down the long street she passed, with her chayjlet of beads and 
her missal. 
75 Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and the ear- 
rings ■ 
Brought in the olden time from France, and since, a$ an heir- 
loom. 
Handed down from mother to child, through long generations. 
But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — 
Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after confession, 
80 Homeward serenely she walked with God's benediction upon her. 
AVhen she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite 
music. 

Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the farmer 
Stood on the side of a hill, commanding the sea, and a shady 
Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing around 
it. 
85 Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath; and a footpath 
Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the meadow. 
Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a penthouse, 
Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road-side. 
Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of Mary. 
90 Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well with its moss- 
grown 
Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the horses. 
Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were the barns 

and the farmyard. 
There stood the broad-wheeled wains and the antique ploughs 

and the harrows; 
There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his feathered 
seraglio, 
95 Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with the self- 
same 
Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent Peter. 
Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. In 

each one 
Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a staircase. 
Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn-loft. 
00 There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and innocent in- 
mates 
Murmuring ever of love; while above in the variant breezes 
Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of mutation. 



60 Narrative Poems of Longjelloio 

•m 

Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer of Grand- 
Pre 
Lived on his sunny farm, and EvangeHne governed his house- 
hold. 
105 Many a youth, as he knelt in the church and opened his missal, 
Fixed his eyes upon her, as the saint of his deepest devotion; 
Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem of her gar- 
ment! 
Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness befriended, 
And as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of her footsteps, 
1 1 Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the knocker of iron„ 
Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the village. 
Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he whispered 
Hurried words of love, that seemed a part of the music. 
But, among all who came, Young Gabriel only was welcome; 
1 1 5 Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith, 

Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored of all men; 
For since the birth of time, throughout all ages and nations, 
Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the people. 
Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from earliest child- 
hood 
120 Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father Felician, 
Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught them their 

letters 
Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church and the 

plain-song. 
But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson completed, 
Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the blacksmith, 
1 25 There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to behold him 
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a plaything. 
Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire of the cart- 
wheel 
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of cinders. 
Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering darkness 
130 Bursting with light seemed the smithy, through every cranny 
and crevice, 
Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring bellows. 
And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in the ashes. 
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into the chapel. 
Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the eagle, 
] 35 Down the hill-side bounding, they glided away o'er the meadow. 
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests on the rafters, 



Evangeline 61 

Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the swallow 

Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight of its flede- ■ 
ings; 

Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of the swallow 1 
140 Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were children. 

He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face of the 
morning, 

Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought into 
action. 

She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a woman. 

"Sunshine of Saint Eulalie " was she called; for that was the 
sunshine 
145 Which, as the farmers believed, would load their orchards with 
apples; 

She, too, would bring to her husband's liousc delight and abun- 
dance. 

Filling it full of love, and the ruddy faces of children. 

II 

Now^ had the season returned, when the nights grow colder and 
longer, 

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. 
150 Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air from the ice- 
bound. 

Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. 

Harvests were gathered in; and wild with the winds of Septem- 
ber 

Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with the angel. 

All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 
155 Bees, with prophetic instinct of want had hoarded their honey 

Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters asserted 

Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the foxes. 

Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that beautiful 
season. 

Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of All-Saints! 
160 Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the 
landscape 

Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. 

Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart of the 
ocean 

Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in harmony 
blended. 



62 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the farm- 
yards, 
165 Whir of wings in the drowsy air, and the cooing of pigeons, 

All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and the great 
sun 

Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors around 
him; 

While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and yellow, 

Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree of the 
forest 
170 Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with mantles 
and jewels. 

Now recommenced the reign of rest and affection and stillness. 

Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twilight de- 
scending 

Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds to the 
homestead. 

Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks on each 
other, 
175 And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness of even- 
ing. 

Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful heifer. 

Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that waved from 
her collar, 

Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human affection. 

Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks from the 
seaside, 
180 Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them followed the 
watch-dog, 

Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of his instinct, 

Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and superbly 

Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the stragglers; 

Regent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept; their protector, 
185 When from the forest at night, through the starry silence the 
wolves howled. 

Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from the marshes, 

Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor. 

Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes and their 
fetlocks, 

While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and ponderous saddles, 
190 Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels of crimson, 



Evangeline 63 

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with blossoms. 

Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their udders 

Unto the milkmaid's hand; whilst loud and in regular cadence 

Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets descended. 
195 Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in the farm- 
yard, 

Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into stillness; 

Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the barn- 
doors, 

Rattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was silent. 

In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly the farmer 
200 Sat in his elbow-chair, and watched how the flames and the 
smokewreaths 
Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind him, 
Nodding and mocking along the wall, with gestures fantastic, 
Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into darkness. 
Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his arm-chair 
205 Laughed in the flickering light, and the pewter plates on the 
dresser 
Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies the sun- 
shine. 
Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of Christmas, 
Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before him 
Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgundian vine- 
yards. 
210 Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline seated, 

Spinning flax for the loom, that stood in the corner behind her. 
Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent shuttle. 
While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the drone of a 

bag-pipe. 
Followed the old man's song, and united the fragments together. 
215 As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals ceases. 
Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest at the 

altar. 
So, in each p*use of the song, with measured motion the clock 
clicked. 

Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, suddenly 
lifted. 
Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back on its 
hinges. 



64 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

220 Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the black- 
smith, 
And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was with him. 
"Welcome!" the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps paused 

on the threshold, 
"Welcome, Basil, my friend! Come, take thy place on the settle 
Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty without thee; 
225 Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of tobacco; 
Never so much thyself art thou as when through the curling 
Smoke of the pipe or the forge thy friendly and jovial face gleams 
Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist of the 

marshes." 
Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the black- 
smith, 
230 Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fireside: — 

" Benedict Bellefontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and thy ballad I 
Ever in cheerfullcst mood art thou, when others are filled with 
Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before them. 
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up a horse- 
shoe." 
235 Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline brought 
him. 
And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly con- 
tinued: — 
"Four days now are passed since the English ships at their 

anchors 
Ride in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon pointed 

against us. 
What their design may be is unknown; but all are commanded 
240 On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Majesty's 
mandate 
Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas! in the meantime 
Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the people." 
Then made answer the farmer : — " Perhaps some friendlier pur- 
pose 
Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps tWfe harvests in Eng- 
245 land 

By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted. 

And from our bursting barns they would feed their cattle and 

children." 
"Not so thinketh the folk in the village," said, warmly, the 
blacksmith, 



Evangeline 65 

Shaking his head, as in doubt; then, heaving a sigh, he con- 
tinued: — 
" Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor Port Royal. 
Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its outskirts, 
Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to-morrow. 
Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons of all 

kinds; 
Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the scythe of the 

mower." 
Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial farmer: — 
"Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks and our corn- 
fields, 
Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the ocean. 
Than our fathers in forts, besieged ])y the enemy's cannon. 
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow of sorrow 
Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night of the con- 
tract. 
Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads of the village 
Strongly have built them and well; and, breaking the glebe 

round about them. 
Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food for a twelve- 
month. 
Rene Leblanc will be here anon, with his papers and inkhorn. 
Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of our chil- 
dren?" 
As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in her lover's, 
Blushing Evangehne heard the words that her father had spoken, 
And as they died on his lips the worthy notary entered. 



Ill 



Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of the ocean, 
Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the notary public; 
Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, hung 
Over his shoulders; his forehead was high; and glasses with horn 

bows 
Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom supernal. 
Father of twenty children was he, and more than a hundred 
Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his great watch 

tick. 



66 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

275 Four long years in the times of the war had he languished a 
captive, 
Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend of the Eng- 
lish. 
Now, though warier grown, without all guile or suspicion, 
Ripe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and childlike. 
He was beloved by all, and most of all by the children; 
280 For he told them tales of the Loupgarou in the forest, 

And of the goblin that came in the night to water the horses, 
And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who unchristened 
Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers of chil- 
dren; 
And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the stable; 
285 Antl how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in a nutshell, 
And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover and horse- 
shoes, 
With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the village. 
Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the blacksmith. 
Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending his right 
hand, 
290 "Father Leblanc," he exclaimed, "thou hast heard the talk in 
the village, 
And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships and their 

errand." 
Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary public: — 
"Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never the wiser; 
And what their errand may be I know not better than others, 
295 Yet am I not of those who imagine some evil intention 

Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then molest 

us?" 
"God's name! " shouted the hasty and somewhat irascible black- 
smith; 
"Must we in all things look for the how, and the why, and the 

wherefore? 
Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the strongest! " 
300 But, without heeding his warmth, continued the notary public: — 
"Man is unjust, but God is just; and finally justice 
Triumphs; and well I remember a story, that often consoled me, 
When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port Royal." 
This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to repeat it 
305 When his neighbors complained that any injustice was done 
them 



Evangeline 67 

"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer remember, 
Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice 
Stood in the pubUc square, upholding the scales in its left hand, 
And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice presided 
Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes of the 

people. 
Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of the balance, 
Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sunshine above 

them. 
But in the course of time the laws of the land were corrupted; 
Might took the place of right, and the weak were oppressed, and 

the mighty 
Ruled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a nobleman's pal- 
ace 
That a necklace of pearls was lost, and ere long a suspicion 
Fell on an orphan girl who lived as maid in the household. 
She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaffold. 
Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of Justice. 
As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit ascended, 
Lo! o'er the city a tempest rose; and the bolts of the thunder 
Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from its left 

hand 
Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of the bal- 
ance. 
And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a magpie, 
Into whose clay-built vv'alls the necklace of pearls was inwoven." 
Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, the 

blacksmith 
*Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no language; 
All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, as the 

vapors 
Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-panes in the winter. 



Then Evangeline Hghted the brazen lamp on the table. 
Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home-brewed 
Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the village of 

Grand-Pre; 
While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and inkhorn, 
Wrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the parties, 
Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and in cattle. 
Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were completed, 



68 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the margin. 
Then from his leather pouch the farmer threw on the table 
Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of silver; 

340 And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the bridegroom 
Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their welfare. 
Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and departed, 
While in silence the others sat and mused by the fireside, 
Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its corner. 

345 Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the old men 
Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manauvre. 
Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was made in the 

king-row. 
Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's embrasure, 
Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the moon rise 

350 Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. 
Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, 
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels. 

Thus passed the evening away. Anon the bell from the belfry 

Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and straightway 
355 Rose the guests and departed; and silence reigned in the house- 
hold. 

Many a farewell word and sv/eet good-night on the door-step 

Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with gladness. 

Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on the 
hearth-stone, 

And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the farmer. 
360 Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline followed^ 

Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness. 

Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the maiden. 

Silent she passed through the hall, and entered the door of her 
chamber. 

Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, and its 
clothes-press 
365 Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were carefully folded 

Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline woven. 

This was the precious dower she would bring to her husband in 
marriage. 

Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill as a house- 
wife. 

Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and radiant 
moonlight 



Evangeline 6d 

370 Streamed through the windows. and lighted the room, till the 
heart of the maiden 

Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides of the 
ocean. 

Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she stood with 

Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her chamber! 

Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the orchard, 
375 Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her lamp and her 
shadow. 

Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling of sadness 

Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in the moon- 
light 

Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a moment. 

And as she gazed from the window she saw serenely the moon 
pass 
380 Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow her foot- 
steps. 

As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with Hagar! 



IV 



Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand- 
Pre, 

Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, 

Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at 
anchor. 
385 Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor 

Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the 
morning. 

Now from the country around, from the farms and the neigh- 
boring hamlets. 

Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. 

Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young 
folk 
390 Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous meadows. 

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the 
greensward, 

Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the high- 
way. 

Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. 



70 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy groups at the 
house-doors 
395 Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. 

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted; 

For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together. 

All things were held in common, and what one had was another's. 

Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more abundant: 
400 For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father; 

Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome and glad- 
ness 

Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she gave it. 

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the orchard, 
Stripped of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of betrothal. 
405 There in the shade of the porch were the priest and the notary 
seated; 
There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the blacksmith. 
Not far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and the bee- 
hives, 
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of hearts and of 

waistcoats. 
Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played on his 
snow-white 
410 Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of the fiddler 
Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown from the 

embers. 
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, 
Tons les Bourgeois de Chartres, and Le Carillon, de Dunkerque, 
And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the music. 
415 Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying dances 
Under the orchard-trees and down the path to the meadows; 
Old folk and young together, and children mingled among 

them. 
Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's daughter! 
Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the blacksmith! 

420 So passed the morning away. And lo! with a summons" sono- 
rous 

Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows a drum 
beat. 

Thronged ere long was the church with men. Without, in the 
churchyard. 



Evangeline 71 

Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and hung on 
the headstones 

Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from the forest. 
425 Then came the guard from the ships, and marching proudly 
among them 

Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant clangor 

Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling and case- 
ment, — 

Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous portal 

Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of the soldiers. 
430 Then uprose their commander, and spake from the steps of the 
altar. 

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal commission. 

"You are convened this day," he said, "by his Majesty's orders. 

Clement and kind has he been; but how you have answered his 
kindness. 

Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make and my 
temper 
435 Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must be grievous. 

Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of our monarch; 

Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle of all 
kinds 

Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves from this 
province 

Be transported to other lands. God grant you may dwell there 
440 Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people! 

Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Majesty's pleasure! " 

As, when the air is serene in the sultry solstice of summer, 

Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the hailstones 

Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters his win- 
dows, 
445 Hiding the sun and strewing the ground with thatch from the 
house-roofs, 

Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their enclosures; 

So on the hearts of the people descended the words of the speaker. 

Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and then rose 

Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger, 
450 And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to the door-way. 

Vain was the hope of escape; and cries and fierce imprecations 

Rang through the house of prayer; and high o'er the heads of the 
others 

Rose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the blacksmith, 



72 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the billows. 
455 Flushed was his face and distorted with passion; and wildly he 
shouted : — 

" Down with the tyrants of England! we never have sworn them 
allegiance! 

Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our 
harvests! " 

More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand of a soldier 

Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down to the pave- 
ment. 

460 In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry contention, 

Lo! the door of the chancel opened, and Father Felician 

Entered, with serious mien, and ascended the steps of the altar. 

Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed into silence 

All that clamorous throng; and thus he spake to his people; 
465 Deep were his tones and solemn; in accents measured and 
mournful 

Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the clock 
strikes. 

"What is this that ye do, my children? what madness has seized 
you? 

Forty years of my life have I labored among you, and taught 
you, 

Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one another ! 
470 Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers and priva- 
tions? 

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and forgiveness? 

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would you profane 
it 

Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with hatred? 

Lo! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing upon you! 
475 See! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy compas- 
sion! 

Hark! how those lips still repeat the prayer 'O Father, forgive 
them!' 

Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us. 

Let us repeat it now, and say, 'O Father, forgive them! ' " 

Few were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts of his 
people 
480 Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passionate out- 
break; 



Evangeline 73 

While they repeated his prayer, and said, "O Father, forgive 
them'/" 

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed from 

Fervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the people re- 
sponded, , 1 . Ti,r • 
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts; and the Ave Maria 
485 Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, with devotion 
translated, 
Rose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to heaven. 

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of ill, and on 

all sides j i i i 

Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women and children. 

Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her right hand 

490 Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun, that, descending, 

Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, and roofed 

each 1 -x • 

Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned its win- 
Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on the table; 
There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant with wild 

flowers; r u i ux 

495 There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh brought 

from the dairy; . .u r 

And at the head of the board the great arm-chair ot the larmer. 
Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the sunset 
Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad ambrosial 

meadows. 
Ah! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen, 
500 And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial ascended,— 
Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and patience! 
Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the village. 
Cheering with looks and words the disconsolate hearts of the 

women. 
As o'er the darkening fields with Hngering steps they departed, 
505 Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet of their 

children. 
Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, ghmmermg vapors 
Veiled the Hght of his face,iike the Prophet descending from Sinai. 
Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus sounded. 



7i Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evangeline lin- 
gered. 
610 All was silent within; and in vain at the door and the windows 

Stood she, and listened and looked, until, overcome by emotion 

"Gabriel! " cried she aloud with tremulous voice: but no answer 

Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier grave of the 
. living. 

Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house of her 
father. 
515 Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board stood the supper 
untasted, 

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with phantoms 
of terror. 

Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of her chamber. 

In the dead of the night she heard the whispering rain fall 

Loud on the w^ithered leaves of the sycamore-tree by the win- 
dow. 
520 Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the echoing 
thunder 

Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the world he 
created! 

Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the justice of 
heaven; 

Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully slumbered till 
morning. 



Four times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day 
525 Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house. 

Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful procession, 

Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the Acadian 
women, 

Driving in ponderous wains their household goods to the sea- 
shore. 

Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their dwellings, 
530 Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road and the 
woodland. 

Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on the oxen, 

While in their little hands they clasped .some fragments of play- 
things. 



Evangeline 75 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried and there on the 

sea-beach 
Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the peasants. 
535 All day long between the shore and the ships did the boats ply; 
All day long the wains came laboring down from the village. 
Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his setting, 
Echoing far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from the 

churchyard. 
Thither the women and children thronged. On a sudden the 

church-doors 
540 Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in gloomy 

procession 
Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian farmers. 
Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes and their 

country, 
Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary and way- 
worn, 
So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants descended 
545 Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives and their 

daughters. 
Foremost the young men came; and raising together their 

voices, 
Sang they with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic Missions: — 
"Sacred heart of the Saviour! O inexhaustible fountain! 
Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission and 

patience! " 
550 Then the old men, as they marched, and the women that stood 

by the way-side 
Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the sunshine above 

them 
Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits departed. 

Halfway down to the shore Evangeline waited in silence, 
Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of affliction, — 
555 Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession approached her. 
And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. 
Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet him. 
Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoulder, and 

whispered, — 
"Gabriel! be of good cheer! for if we love one another, 
560 Nothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances may hap- 
pen!" 



76 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Smiling she spake these words; then suddenly paused, for her 
father 

Saw she slowly advancing. Alas! how changed was his aspect! 

Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from his eye, and 
his footstep 

Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart in his bosom. 
565 But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck and embraced 
him, 

Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort availed 
not. 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mournful pro- 
cession. 

There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir of embark- 
ing. 

Busily plied the freighted boats; and in the confusion 
570 Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, too late, 
saw their chiklren 

Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest entreaties. 

So unto separate ships were Basil and Gabriel carried. 

While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with her father. 

Half the task was not done when the sun went down, and the 
twilight 
575 Deepened and darkened around; and in haste the refluent 
ocean 

Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the sand-beach 

Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the slippery sea- 
weed. 

Farther back in the midst of the household goods and the 
wagons, 

Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle, 
580 All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near them. 

Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian farmers. 

Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing ocean. 

Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and leaving 

Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the sailors. 
585 Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from their 
pastures; 

Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk fpom their 
udders; 

Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars of the 
farmyard, — 



Evangeline 77 

Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand of the 

milkmaid. 
Silence reigned in the streets; from the church no Angelus 

sounded, 
5 90 Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights from the 

windows. 

But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had been kin- 
dled, 

Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from wrecks in the 
tempest. 

Round them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were gathered, 

Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the crying of 
children. 
595 Onward from fire to fire, as from hearth to hearth in his parish, 

Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing and cheer- 
ing, 

Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Mclita's desolate sea-shore. 

Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat with her 
father. 

And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old man, 
600 Haggard and- hollow and wan, and without either thought or 
emotion. 

E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have been 
taken. 

Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to cheer him, 

Vainly offered him food; yet he moved not, he looked not, he 
spake not. 

But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering fire-Ught. 
605 " Benedicite!" murmured the priest, in tones of compassion. 

More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, and his 
accents 

Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child on a 
threshold, 

Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful presence of sor- 
row. 

Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the maiden, 
610 Raising his eyes, full of tears, to the silent stars that above 
them 

Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and sorrows of 
mortals 

Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together in silence. 



78 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn the blood- 
red 

Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the horizon 
615 Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon mountain and mea- 
dow, 

Seizing the rocks and the rivers, and piling huge shadows to- 
gether. 

Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of the village. 

Gleamed on the sky and the sea, and the ships that lay in the 
roadstead. 

Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame were 
620 Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the quivering 
hands of a martyr. 

Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burning thatch, and, 
uplifting. 

Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a hundred 
housetops 

Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame intermingled. 

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the shore and on 
shipboard. 
625 Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their anguish, 
" We shall behold no more our homes in the village of Grand- 

Pre! " 
Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farmyards. 
Thinking the day had dawned ; and anon the lowing of cattle 
Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs interrupted. 
630 Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleeping en- 
campments 
Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the Nebraska, 
When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the speed of the 

whirlwind 
Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the river. 
Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the herds and 
the horses 
635 Broke through their folds, and fences and madly rushed o'er 
the meadows. 

Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the priest and 
the maiden 
Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened before 
them; 



Evangeline 79 

And as they turned at length to speak to their silent companion, 
Lo! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad on the 

sea-shore 
Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had departed. 
Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the maiden 
Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. 
Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on his bosom. 
Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious slumber; 
And when she woke from the trance, she beheld a multitude 

near her, 
Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully gazing upon 

her, 
Palhd, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest compassion. 
Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the landscape, 
Reddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces around 

her, 
And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering senses. 
Then a familiar voice she heard,- as it said to the people, — 
"Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier season 
Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land of our 

exile. 
Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the churchyartl." 
Such were the words of the priest. And there in haste by the 

seaside. 
Having the glare of the burning village for funeral torches. 
But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of (Jrand-Pre. 
And as the voice of the priest repeated the service of sorrow, 
Lo! with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast congrega- 
tion. 
Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with the dirges. 
'T was the returnmg tide, that afar from the waste of the ocean, 
With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and hurrying 

landward. 
Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of embarking; 
And with the ebb of that tide the ships sailed out of the harbor. 
Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the village in 

ruins. 



80 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Part the Second 



Many a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pre, 
When on the falhng tide the freighted vessels departed, 
Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile, 
Exile without an end, and without an example in story. 
670 Far asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed; 

Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the wind from 

the northeast 
Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks of New- 
foundland. 
Friendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from city to city. 
From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern savannas, — 
6 75 From the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where the Father 
of Waters 
Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to the ocean. 
Deep in their sands to bury the scattered bones of the mammoth. 
Friends they sought and homes; and many, despairing, heart- 
broken, 
Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a friend nor a 
fireside. 
680 Written their history stands on tablets of stone in the church- 
yards. 
Long among them was seen a maiden who waited and wandered, 
Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all things. 
Fair was she and young; but, alas! before her extended. 
Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with its pathway 
685 Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and suffered 
before her, 
Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and abandoned, 
As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is marked by 
Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in the sun- 
shine. 
Something there was in her life incomplete, imperfect, unfin- 
ished ; 
690 As if a morning of June, with all its music and sunshine, 

Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly descended 
Into the east again, from whence it late had risen. 
Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the fever within 
her, 



Evangeline 81 

Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst of the spirit, 
695 She would commence again her endless search and endeavor; 

Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the crosses and 
tombstones, 

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps in its 
bosom 

He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber beside him. 

Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper, 
700 Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her forward. 

Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her beloved and 
known him. 

But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. 

"Gabriel Lajcunessc! " said they; "(), yes! we have seen him. 

He was with Basil the blacksmith, antl both have gone to the 
prairies; 
705 Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters and trappers." 

"Gabriel Lajeunesse!" said others; "O, yes! we have seen him. 

He is a Voi/ageur in the lowlands of Louisiana." 

Then would they say, — "Dear child! why dream and wait fur 
him longer? 

Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel? others 
710 Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal? 

Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has loved thee 

Many a tedious j'^ear; come, give him thy hand and be happy! 

Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's tresses." 

Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, — "I cannot! 
715 Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, and not 
elsewhere. 

For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and illumines the 
pathway, 

Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in darkness." 

And thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor. 

Said, with a smile, — " O daughter! thy God thus speaketh within 
thee! 
720 Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was wasted; 

If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, returning 

Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full of refresh- 
ment; 

That which the fountain sends forth returns again to the foun- 
tain. 

Patience; accomplish thy labor; accomplish thy work of affec- 
tion! 



82 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

725 Sorrow and silence are strong, and patient endurance is godlike. 

Therefore accomplish thy labor of love, till the heart is made 
godlike. 

Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more worthy of 
heaven! " 

Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored and 
waited. 

Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the ocean, 
730 But with its sound there was mingled a voice that whispered, 
"Despair not! " 

Thus did that poor soul wander in want and cheerless discom- 
fort, 

Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of existence. 

Let me essay, O Muse! to follow the wanderer's footsteps; — 

Not through each devious path, each changeful year of existence; 
?S5 But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through the valley: 

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam of its water 

Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only; 

Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms that 
conceal it, 

Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous murmur; 
740 Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches an outlet. 



II 



It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful River, 
Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash, 
Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mississippi, 
Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian boatmen. 
745 It was a band of exiles: a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked 
Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together, 
Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common misfor- 
tune; 
Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or by hear- 
say, 
Sought for their kith and their kin among the few-acred farmers 
750 On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Opelousas. 

With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father Felician. 
Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre with 
forests, 



Evangeline 83 

Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river; 

Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on its borders. 
755 Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, where plume- 
hke 

Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept with the 
current, 

Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand-bars 

Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of their mar- 
gin, 

Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of pelicans waded. 
760 Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of the river, 

Shaded by China-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gardens. 

Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins and dove-cots. 

They were approaching the region where reigns perpetual sum- 
mer, 

\Yhere through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange and 
citron, 
765 Sweeps with majestic curve the river away to the eastward. 

They, too, swerved from their course, and, entering the Bayou 
of Plaquemine, 

Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious waters, 

AVhich, like a network of steel, extended in every direction. 

Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs of the 
cypress 
770 Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air, 

Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient cathedrals. 

Deathlike the silence seemed, and unbroken, save by the herons 

Home to their roosts in the cedar-trees returning at sunset. 

Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac laughter. 
775 Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed on the 
water. 

Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustaining the 
arches, 

Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through chinks in a 
ruin. 

Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things around 
them ; 

And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of wonder and sad- 
ness, — 
780 Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be compassed. 

As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of the prairies. 

Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking mimosa. 



84 Narrative Poems of Lonyjellow 

So, at the hoof-beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil, 
Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom has at- 
tained it. 
785 But EvangeHne's heart was sustained by a vision, that faintly 
Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through the moon- 

hght. 
It was the thought of her brain that assumed the shape of a 

phantom. 
Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered before her, 
And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer and nearer. 

790 Then iii his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one of the 
oarsmen. 
And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure 
Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a blast on 

his bugle. 
Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy the blast 

rang, 
Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to the forest. 
795 Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred to the 
music. 
Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, 
Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant branches; 
But not a voice replied; no answer came from the darkness; 
And when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of pain was the 
silence. 
800 Then Evangeline slept; but the boatmen rowed through the 
midnight. 
Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat-songs, 
Such as they sang of old on their own Acadian rivers. 
And through the night were heard the mysterious sounds of the 

desert. 
Far off, indistinct, as of wave or wind in the forest, 
805 Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of the grim 
alligator. 

Thus ere another noon they emerged from those shades; and 
before them 
Lay, in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. 
Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undulations 
Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, the lotus, 
810 Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boatmen. 



Evangeline 85 

Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnoHa blossoms, 
And with the heat of noon; and numberless sylvan islands, 
Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges of roses, 
Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to slumber. 
815 Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were suspended. 
Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by the margin, 
Safely their boat was moored; and scattered about on the green- 
sward. 
Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers slumbered. 
Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. 
820 Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and the grape- 
vine 
Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of Jacob, 
On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, descending, 
Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blossom to 

blossom. 
Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered beneath it. 
825 Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an opening 
heaven 
Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions celestial. 

m 

Nearer and ever nearer, among the numberless islands. 
Darted a light swift boat, that sped away o'er the water, 
Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters and trappers. 
830 Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the bison and 
beaver. 
At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful and care- 
worn. 
Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and a sadness 
Somew^hat beyond his years on his face was legibly written. 
Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and restless, 
835 Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of sorrow. 
■ Swiftly they glided along, close under the lea of the island. 
But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of palmettos, 
So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed in the 

willows, 
All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, were the 
sleepers; 
840 Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumbering maiden. 
Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud on the prairie. 
After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died in the dis- 
tance, 



86 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the maiden 

Said with a sigh to the friendly priest. — "O Father Felician! 
845 Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel wanders. 

Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition? 

Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my spirit?" 

Then, with a blush, she added, — "Alas for my credulous fancy! 

Unto ears like thine such words as these have no meaning."' 
850 But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled as he an- 
swered : — 

"Daughter, thy words are not idle; nor arethey tome without 
meaning. 

Feeling is deep and still; and the word that floats on the surface 

Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor is hidden. 

Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world calls illusions. 
855 Gabriel truly is near thee; for not far away to the southward, 

On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur and St. 
Martin. 

There the long-wandering bride shall be given again to her 
bridegroom, 

There the long absent pastor regain his flock and his sheepfold. 

Beautiful isthe land, with its prairies antl forests of fruit-trees; 
860 Under the feet u garden of flowers, and the bluest of heavens 

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls of the forest. 

They who dwell there have named it the Eden of Louisiana." 

And with these words of cheer they arose and continued their 
journey. 
Softly the evening came. The sun from the western horizon 
865 Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the landscape; 
Twinkling vapors arose; and sky and water and forest 
Seemed all on Are at the touch, and melted and mingled together. 
Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of silver 
Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the motionless water. 
870 Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweetness 
Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountain of feeling 
Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters around 

her. 
Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of 

singers, 
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, 
875 Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, 



Evangeline 87 

That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent 
to listen. 

Plaintive at first were the tones and sad ; then soaring to mad- 
ness 

Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. 

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation; 
880 Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, 

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops 

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches. 

With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed with 
emotion. 

Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through the green 
Opelousas, 
885 And through the amber air, above the crest of the woodland. 

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neighboring dwell- 
ino" — 

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lov/ing of cattle. 

Ill 

Near to the bank of the river, o'er-shadowed by oaks, from 

whose branches 
Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe flaunted, 

890 Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at Yule-tide, 
Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. A garden 
Girded it round alx)ut with a belt of luxuriant blossoms, 
Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was of timbers 
Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted together. 

895 Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns sui)p()rted, 
Rose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious veranda, 
Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended around it. 
At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the garden. 
Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual symbol, 

900 Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of rivals. 

Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow and sunshine 
Ran near the tops of the trees; but the house itself was in 

shadow. 
And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly expanding 
Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 

905 In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran a pathway 
Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the limitless 
prairie, 



88 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly descending. 
Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy canvas 
Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm in the 
tropics, 
910 Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of grape-vines. 

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of the prairie, 

Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and stirrups, 

Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of deerskin. 

Broad and brown was the face that from under the Spanish 
sombrero 
915 Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of its master. 

Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that were 
grazing 

Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory freshness 

That uprose from the river, and spread itself over the landscape. 

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and expanding 
920 Fully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that resounded 

Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp air of the even- 
ing. 

Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of the cattle 

Rose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean. 

Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed o'er the 
prairie, 
925 And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the distance. 

Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through the gate of 
the garden 

Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden advancing to 
meet him 

Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amazement, and 
forward 

Rushed with extended arms and exclamations of wonder; 
930 When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the black- 
smith. 

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the garden. 

There in an arbor of roses with endless question and answer 

Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their friendly em- 
braces, 

Laughing and weeping by turns, or sitting silent and thoughtful. 
935 Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not; and now dark doubts and 
misgivings 

Stole o'er the maiden's heart; and Basil, somewhat embarrassed, 



Evangeline 89 

Broke the silence and said, — "If you came by the Atchafalaya, 

How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's boat on the 
bayous?" 

Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade passed. 
940 Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremulous ac- 
cent, — 

"Gone? is Gabriel gone?" and, concealing her face on his 
shoulder, 

All her o'erburdened heart gave way, and she wept and lamented . 

Then the good Basil said, — and his voice grew blithe as he said 
it,— 

"Be of good cheer, my child; it is only to-day he departed. 
945 FooHsh boy! he has left me alone with my herds and my horses. 

Moody and restless grown, and tired and troubled, his spirit 

Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet existence. 

Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, 

Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, 
950 He at length had become so tedious to men and to maidens, 

Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, and sent him 

Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with the Spaniards. 

Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark Mountains, 

Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping the beaver. 
955 Therefore be of good cheer; we will follow the fugitive lover; 

He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the streams are 
against him. 

Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew of the morn- 
ing 

We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his prison." 

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the banks of the 
river, 
960 Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the fiddler. 
Long under Basil's roof had he lived like a god on Olympus, 
Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. 
Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. 
"Long live Michael," they cried, "our brave Acadian minstrel!" 
965 As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession; and straight- 
way 
Father Felician advanced Vvith Evangeline, greeting the old man 
Kindly and oft, and recalling the past, while Basil, enraptured, 
Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and gossips, 
I^aughing loud and long, and enjbracing mothers and daughter?. 



90 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

970 Much they marvelled to sec the wealth of the ci-devant black- 
smith, 
All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal demeanor; 
Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil and the climate, 
And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were his who would 

take them; 

Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would go and do 

likewise. 

975 Thus they ascended the steps, and, crossing the airy veranda. 

Entered the hall of the house, where already the supper of Basil 

Waited his late return; and they rested and feasted together. 

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness descended. 

All was silent without, and, illuming the landscape with silver, 
980 Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars; but within 
doors. 

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in the glimmering 
lamp'ight. 

Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, the herds- 
man 

Poured forth his heart and his wine together in endless profusion 

Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet Natchitoches to- 
bacco, 
985 Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled as they 
listened: — 

"Welcome once more, my friends, who long have been friend- 
less and homeless, 

Welcome once more to a home, that is better perchance than the 
old one! 

Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the rivers; 

Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the farmer. 
990 Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil as a keel through 
the water. 

All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom; and grass 
grows 

More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. 

Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed in the 
prairies; 

Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and forests of timber 
995 With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed into houses. 

After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow with 
harvests, 



Evangeline 91 

No King George of England shall drive you away from your 
homesteads, 

Burning your dweUings and barns, and steahng your farms and 
your cattle." 

Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from his nostrils, 
1000 And his huge, brawny hand came thundering down on the 
table, 

So that the guests all started; and Father Felician, astounded, 

Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff halfway to his nostrils. 

But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were milder and 
gayer: — « 

"Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of the fever! 
1005 For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate. 

Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck in a nutshell! " 

Then there were voices heard at the door, and footsteps ap- 
proaching 

Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy veranda. 

It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian planters, 
1010 Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil the herdsman. 

Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and neighbors: 

Friend clasped friend in his arms; and they who before were as 
strangers, 

Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to each other, 

Drawn l)y the gentle bond of a common country, together. 
1015 But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, proceeding 

From the accordant strings of Michael's melodious fiddle, 

Broke up all further speech. Away, like children delighted. 

All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to the madden- 
ing 

Whirl of the dizzy dance, as it swept and swayed to the music, 
1020 Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of fluttering gar- 
ments. 

Meanw^hile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest and the 
herdsman 
Sat, conversing together of past and present and future; 
While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within her 
Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music 
1025 Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible sadness 
Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into the garden. 
Beautiful was the night. Behind the black w^all of the forest, 
Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On the river 



92 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous gleam of 
the moonlight, 
1030 Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and devious 
spirit. 
Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of the garden 
Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers and con- 
fessions 
Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent Carthusian. 
Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with shadows and 
night-dews, 
1035 Hung the lieart of the maiden. The calm and the magical 
moonlight 
Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, 
As, through the garden gate, beneath the brown shade of the 

oak-trees, 
Passed she along the path to the edge of the measureless prairie. 
Silent it lay, with a silvery haze uijon it, and fire-flies 
1040 Gleaming and floating away in mingled and infinite numbers. 
Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the heavens. 
Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel and wor- 
ship, 
Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of that temple, 
As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, "Upharsin." 
1045 And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and the fire-flies, 
Wandered alone, and she cried, — "O Galiriel! () my beloved! 
Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold thee? 
Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does not reach me? 
Ah! how often thy feet have trod this path to the prairie! 
1050 Ah! how often thine eyes have looked on the woodlands around 
me! 
Ah! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor, 
Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me in thy slumbers. 
When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded about thee? " 
Loud and sudden and near the note of a whippoorwill sounded 
1055 Like a flute in the woods; and anon, through the neighboring 
thickets. 
Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into silence. 
"Patience!" whispered the oaks from oracular caverns of dark- 
ness; 
And, from the moonlit meadow, a. sigh responded, "To-mor- 
row!" 



Evangeline 93 

Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers of the garden 

1060 Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed his tresses 

With the dehcious balm that they bore in their vases of crystal. 

"Farewell!" said the priest, as he stood at the shadowy 

threshold; 
" See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his fasting and 

famine, 
And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the bridegroom was 
• coming." 
1065 "Farewell!" answered the maiden, and, smiling, with Basil de- 
scended 
Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already were 

waiting. 
Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sunshine, and 

gladness. 
Swiftly they followed the flight of him who was speeding before 

them. 
Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the desert. 
1070 Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that succeeded, 
Found they trace of his course, in lake or forest or river, 
Nor, after many days, had they found him; but vague and un- 
certain 
Rumors alone were their guides through a wild and desolate 

country; 
Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 
1075 Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the garrulous 
landlord. 
That on the day before, with horses and guides and companions, 
Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the prairies. 

IV 

Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the mountains 
Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and luminous sum- 
mits. 
1080 Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, Hke 
a gateway. 
Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's wagon. 
Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and Ov.^yhee. 
Eastward, with devious course, among the Windriver Moun- 
tains, ♦ 



94 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the Nebraska; 
1085 And to the South, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the Spanish 
sierras, 

Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind of the 
desert, 

Numberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to the ocean, 

Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn vibrations. 

Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, beautiful 
prairies, 
1090 Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sunshine, 

Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas. 

Over them wander the buffalo herds, and the elk and the roe- 
buck; 

Over them wander the wolves, and herds of riderless horses; 

Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary with travel ; 
1095 Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's children. 

Staining the desert with blood; and above their terrible war- 
trails 

Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, 

Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered in battle. 

By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 
1100 Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these savage 
marauders; 

Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift-running 
rivers; 

And the grim, tactiturn bear, the anchorite monk of the desert. 

Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by the brook- 
side; 

And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven, 
1 105 Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. 

Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark Mountains, 

Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers behind him. 

Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden and Basil 

Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to o'ertake him. 

1110 Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke of his 

camp-fire 
Rise in the morning air from the distant plain, but at nightfall, 
When they had reached the place, they found only embers and 

ashes. 
And, though their hearts were sad at times and their bodies were 

weary, • 



1115 



Erangeline 95 

Hope still glided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana 
Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and vanished 



before them. 



Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently enterpd 
Into the little camp an Indian woman, whose features 
Wore deep traces of sorrow, and ])atience as great as her sorro\v . 
She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her ])eople, 
11 oo From the far-off hnnting-groimds of the cruel Camanches 

Where her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois, had been 

murdered. i r • i 

Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest and tnend- 

liest welcome , . ^ , 

Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and feasted among 

them , , .1 I 

On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the embers. 
1 1>5 But when their meal was done, and Basil and all his companions 
Worn with the long day's march and the chase of the deer and 

the bison, 
Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept v.l'.ere the (puv- 

ering firelight , . r i 

Flashed on their .swarthy cheeks, and the r forms wiai-ped up 

in their blankets, , , i 

Then at the door of Evangeline's tent .she sat • d repeated 
1130 Slowlv, with .soft, low voice, and the charm of licr Indian accent. 
All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, and re- 

verses 
Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that another 
Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been disappointed. 
Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's compas- 
sion, ,,,«•! 

1 1 35 Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered was near 
her. 
She in turn related her love and all it>? disasters. 
Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when .she had ended 
Still was mute; but at length, as if a mysterious horror 
Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated the tale ot 

the Mowis; , , , , • i 

1140 Alowis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded a maiden, 
But, when the morning came, arose and passed from the wig- 
wam, . , . 
Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sunshine, 



96 Narraiive Poemfi of Longfellmv 

Till she beheld him no more, though she followed far into the 

forest. 
Then, in those sweet, low tones that seemed like a weird incanta- 
tion, 
1 145 Told she the tale of the fair Lilinaii, who was wooed by a phan- 
tom, 
That, through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the hush of 

the twilight, 
Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love to the 

maiden. 
Till she followed his green and waving plume through the forest, 
And never more returned, nor was seen again by her people. 
1150 Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline listened 

To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region around her 
Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest the en- 
chantress. 
Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon rose. 
Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor 
1155 Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling the wood- 
land. 
With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the branches 
Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whispers. 
Filled with the thoughts of love was Evangeline's heart, but a 

secret. 
Subtle sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, 
1160 As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of the swallow. 
It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region of spirits 
Seemed to float in the air of night; and she felt for a moment 
That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing a phantom. 
And with this thought she slept, and the fear and the phantom 
had vanished. 

1165 Early upon the morrow the march was resumed; and the 

Shawnee 
Said, as they journeyed along, — "On the western slope of these 

mountains 
Dwells in his little village the Black Robe chief of the Mission. 
Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary and Jesus; 
Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with pain, as they 

hear him." 
1 170 Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline answered — 
" Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings await us! " 



Evangeline 97 

Thither they turned their steeds; and behind a spur of the moun- 
tains, 
Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur of voices, 
And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of a river, 
1175 Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit Mission. 
Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the viHage, 
Knelt the Black Robe chief Avitli his children. A crucifix fast- 
ened 
High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadowed by grape-vines, 
Looked with its agonizeil face on the multitude kneeling be- 
neath it. 
1 180 This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the intricate arches 
Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers. 
Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs of the 

branches. 
Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer approach- 

Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the evening devotions 
1185 But when the service was done, and the benediction had fallen 

Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from the hands of 
the soever. 

Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, and bade 
them 

Welcome; and when they replied, he smiled with benignant 
expression. 

Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in the forest, 
1190 And with words of kindness conducted them into his wigwam. 

There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes of the 
maize-ear 

Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd of the 
teacher. 

Soon was their story told; and the priest with solemnity answer- 
ed:— 

"Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, seated 
1195 On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes. 

Told me this same sad tale; then arose and continued his 
journey! " 

Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with an accent 
of kindness; 

But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter the snow- 
flakes 

Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have departed. 



98 Nnrrathic Poems of Longfellow 

1200 "Far to the north he has gone," continued the priest; "but in 
autumn, 
When the chase is done, will return again to the Mission." 
Then Evangehne said, and her voice was meek and submissive, — ■ 
"Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and afflicted." 
So seemed it wise and well unto all; and betimes on the morrow, 
1205 Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides and com- 
panions, 
Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at the Mis- 
sion. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each other, — 
Days and weeks and months; and the fields of maize that were 

springing 
Green from the ground when a stranger she came, now waving 
above her, 
1210 Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and forming 
Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged by squir- 
rels. 
Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, and the 

maidens 
Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. 
But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in the corn- 
field. 
1215 Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her lover. 

"Patience!" the priest would say; *'have faith, and thy prayer 

will be answered! 
Look at this delicate plant that lifts its head from the meadow 
See how its leaves a!l point to the north, as true as the 

magnet ; 
It is the compass-flower, that the finger of God has suspended 
1220 Here on its fragile stalk, to direct the traveller's journey 
Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the desert. 
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of passion, 
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller of fragrance. 
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their odor is deadly. 
1225 Only this humble plant can guide us here, and hereafter 

Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with the dews of 
nepenthe." 

So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter, — yet Gabriel 
came not; 



Evangeline 99 

Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the robin and 

blue-bird 
Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel came not. 

1230 But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was wafted 
Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. 
Far to the north and east, it said, in the I\Iichigan forests, 
Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw River. 
And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of St. Law- 
rence, 

1235 Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the Mission. 
When over weary ways, by long and perilous marches. 
She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan forests, 
Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to ruin! 

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in seasons and places 
1240 Divers and distant far was seen the wandering maiden; — 
Now in the tents of grace of the meek Moravian Missions, 
Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the army. 
Now in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. 
Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremembered. 
1245 Fair was she and young, when in hope began the long journey; 
Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it ended. 
Each succeeding year stole something away from her beauty. 
Leaving behind it, broader and deeper, the gloom and the 

shadow. 
Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray o'er her 
forehead, 
1250 Dawn of another life, that brol^e o'er her earthly horizon, 
As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the morning. 



In. that delightful land which is washed by the Delav/are's 

waters. 
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the apostle. 
Stands on the banks of its beautiful stream the city he founded. 
1255 There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem of beauty, 
And the streets still reecho the names of the trees of the forest, 
As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts they 

molested. 



100 Narrathe Poems of Longfellow 

There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, an exile, 
Finding among the children of Penn a home and a country. 

1260 There old Rene Leblanc had died; and when he departed, 
Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descendants. 
Something at least there was in the friendly streets of the city, 
Something that spake to her heart, and made her no longer a 

stranger; 
And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou of the Quakers, 

1265 For it recalled the past, the old Acadian covmtry. 

Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and sisters. 
So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed endeavor. 
Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncomplaining. 
Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her thoughts and 
her footsteps. 

1270 As from a mountain's top the rainy mists of the morning 
Rolled away, and afar we behold the landscape below us, 
Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and hamlets. 
So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the world far below 

her, 
Dark no longer, but all illumined with love; and the pathway 

1275 Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair in the dis- 
tance. 
Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart w^as his image. 
Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she beheld him, 
Only more beautiful made by his deathlike silence and absence. 
Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it was not. 

1280 Over him years had no power; he was not changed, but trans- 
figured; • 
He hatl become to her heart as one who is dead, and not absent; 
Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others, 
This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had taught her. 
So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous spices, 

1285 Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with aroma. 
Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to follow 
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her Savioiu*. 
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy, frequenting 
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowtled lanes of the city, 

1290 Where distress and want concealed themselves from the sun- 
light, 
Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neglected. 
Night after night, when the world was asleep, as the watchman 
repeated 



Evangeline 101 

Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well in the city, 
High at some lonely window he saw the light of her taper. 
1295 Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow through the 
suburbs 
Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits for the 

market, 
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from its watchiiigs. 

Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the city, 
Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of wiki 
pigeons. 
1300 Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in their craws but 
an acorn. 
And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of Se|)tember, 
Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake in the 

meadow. 
So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural margin, 
Spread to a brackish lake, the silver stream of existence. 
1305 Wealth had no power to l)ribe, nor beauty to charm, the op- 
pressor; 
But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his anger; — 
Only, alas! the poor, who had neither friends nor attendants, 
Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the homeless. 
Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of meadows and 
woodlands; . . 
1310 Now the city surrounds it; but still, with its gateway and wicket 
Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls seem to echo 
Softly the words of the Lord: — "The poor ye always have with 

you." 
Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of Mercy. The 

dying 
Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold there 
1315 Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with splendor, 
Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints and apostles, 
Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a distance. 
Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial. 
Into whose shining gates ere long their spirits would enter. 

1320 Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, deserted and 
silent, 
Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the almshouse. 
Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers in the garden; 



102 Narrative Poemfi of Longfellow 

And she paused on her way to gather the fairest among thenl, 

That the dying once more might rejoice in their fragrance and 
beauty. 
1325 Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled by the 
east wind. 

Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the belfry of 
Christ Church, 

While, intermingled with these, across the meadows were 
wafted 

Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in their Church 
at Wicaco. 

Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour on her spirit; 
1330 Something within her said, — "At length thy trials are ended;" 

And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers of sick- 
ness. 

Noiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attendants. 

Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and in silence 

Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealine: their faces, 
1335 Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow by the road- 
side. 

Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 

Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, for her 
presence 

Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls of a prison. 

And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the consoler, 
1340 Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever. 

Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night-time; 

Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. 

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of wonder, 
Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while a shudder 
1345 Ran through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets dropped 
from her fingers. 
And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom of the morn- 
ing. 
Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terrible anguish, 
That the dying heard it, and started up from their pillows. 
On the pallet before her was stretched the form of an old man. 
1350 Long, and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded his temples; 
But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a moment 
Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier manhood; 
So are wont to be changed the faces of those who are dying. 



Evangeline 103 

Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever, 
1355 As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled its portals, 
That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and pass over. 
Motionless, senseless, dying he lay, and his spirit exhausted 
Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths in the dark- 
ness. 
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking. 
1360 Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied reverbera- 
tions. 
Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush that succeeded 
Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint-like, 
"Gabriel! O my beloved!" and died away into silence. 
Then he beheld in a dream, once more the home of his child- 
hood; 
1365 Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among them, 

Village, and mountain, and woodlands; and, walking under 

their shadow, 
As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his vision. 
Tears came into his eyes; and as slowly he lifted his eyelids, 
Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by his bedside. 
1370 Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unuttered 
Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue 

would have woken. 
Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling l)eside him. 
Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. 
Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank into dark- 
ness, 
1375 As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at a casement. 

All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow. 
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing. 
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience! 
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom, 
1380 Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father, I thank 

thee! " 



Still stands the forest primeval; but far away from its shadow, 
Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are sleeping, 
Under the humble walls of the little Catholic churchyard, 
In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and unnoticed, 
1385 Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside them, 



104 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at rest and 

forever, 
Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer are busy. 
Thousands of toihng hands, where theirs have ceased from their 

labors. 
Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed their 



journey 



1390 Still stands the forest primeval^ but under the shade of its 
branches 
Dwells another race, with other customs and language. 
Only along the shore of the mournful and misty Atlantic 
Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile 
Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. 
1395 In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy. 

Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of home- 
spun. 
And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story. 
While from its rocky caverns the deep- voiced neighboring ocean 
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the 
forest. 



INTRODUCTION TO THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 

The Song of Hiawatha, published in 1855, was not 
the first poem of Longfellow's showing his interest in the 
American Indian. In Voices of the 
J , . Night, published in 1839, appeared "The 

Indian Themes Burialof theMinnisink," a remarkablelit- 
tle poem full of appreciation of the poetic 
elements in the customs and beliefs of the Indian. In the 
second part of Evangeline, fourth canto, there is a decided 
herald of the Indian legend which, in less than ten years, 
was to form the basis of one of his most ambitious efforts. 
Nor did he completely exhaust his store of Indian sym- 
pathy when The Song of Hiawatha was completed. "The 
Revenge of Rain-in-the-Facc," in one of his latest published 
volumes, shows how keenly he felt the Indian's wrongs 
at the white man's hand. 

This interest in Indian themes found at intervals 
throughout his long career may be traced in part to the 
following facts. He passed his youth and early manhood 
in Maine, and doubtless had some contact with the rem- 
nants of the Indians before their migration westward. 
While in college at Bowdoin, he was strongly influenced 
by the life and labor of Heckewelder, a Moravian mis- 

105 



106 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

sionary among the Indians, whose works Longfellow read 
with curious interest as early as 1824. The publications 
of Schoolcraft, (whose work will be noted in detail later), 
especially the Algic Researches, and Oneota, made a very 
great impression upon the poet during the years 1830-1840, 
when Indian themes kept suggesting themselves vaguely 
to his mind as a basis for serious work. Finally, when the 
poet heard the Ojibway chief, Kah-ge-ga-gah'-bowh, lecture 
in Boston in 1849 on the Religion, Poetry, and Eloquence 
of the Indians, he received an inspiration that was soon to 
bear fruit in a work of unquestionable merit and great 
popular favor. 

The legends that form the basis of Longfellow's work 
first gained publicity through Mr. J. V. H. Clark in an 
Sources article published in the New York Com- 

of the mercial Advertiser, containing some Iro- 

Work quois legends obtained by him through 

two Onondaga chiefs. These notes of Clark's were used by 
Schoolcraft before they were incorporated in Clark's 
History of Onondaga, in 1849. 

In the same year, 1849, Alfred Billings Street, after- 
wards State Librarian of New York, poet and miscellaneous 
writer, published his metrical romance, Frofitenac. A few 
original notes from Iroquois sources together with School- 
craft's works, which had been appearing at intervals since 
1825, constitute the basis of Street's poem. It is known that 
Longfellow admired Street's mediocre work and praised 
highly his handling of nature. 



Introduction to The Sortg of Hiawatha 107 

Henry Rowe Schoolcraft, however, was Longfellow's 
chief authority, source, and inspiration in writing The 
Song of Hiawatha; and in considering 
Schoolcraft the origin of Longfellow's Indian ma- 

terial, too much credit cannot be given 
to Schoolcraft. 

Schoolcraft was sent west as early as 1822 as agent for 
the Indian tribes around Lake Superior. Turning his 
attention to history and ethnology, he w^as one of the 
founders of the Algic Society, organized in 1831, at Detroit, 
for the purpose of preserving Indian traditions. During 
his years of service to the government, settling disputes, 
effecting treaties, managing Indian affairs in general, 
he was gathering a vast store of Indian legends, tradi- 
tions, and customs, through personal contact with 
the Indians in their native haunts. His publications 
include literary and scientific works as well as his 
government reports. His chief works are these: Travels 
in the Central Portions of the Mississippi Valley, 
1825; Narrative of an Expedition through the Upper 
Mississippi to Itasca Lake, 1834; The Indian and His 
Wigwam, 1838; Algic Researches, 1839; Oneota, or 
Characteristics of the Red Race of America, 1845; Notes 
on the Iroquois, 1846; Personal Memoirs of a Residence 
of Thirty Years with the Indian Tribes, 1851; and his 
monumental work, published under governmental auspices 
at a cost of over $30,000, — Historical and Statistical Infor- 
mation Respecting the History, Conditions, and Prospects 



108 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

of the Indian Tribes of the United States, 1851-1857. His 
Hiawatha Legends appeared in 1856, the year after 
Longfellow's Song of Hiawatha, and was dedicated to 
Longfellow. Schoolcraft's use of the name, Hiawatha, 
in connection with the Ojibway legends was made in spite 
of the fact that he was aware of the inconsistency of identi- 
fying an Iroquois character with western traditions, but it 
was done, doubtless, out of courtesy to Longfellow. 

Because of his laxity in this and other matters, School- 
craft laid himself open to the harsh criticism of the scientific 
historian, who is inclined to depreciate even his valuable 
contributions on the subject of Indian traditions. Park- 
man says that in view of his opportunities and his zeal, 
his results are most unsatisfactory. It is only just 
to say of Schoolcraft, however, that the blunders and 
contradictions are largely the mistakes of the old 
chiefs, the historians and story-tellers of the tribes, 
from whom he received the traditions as they were told 
him. Many of the legends appearing in Schoolcraft's 
works were translated by his wife, the grand-daughter of an 
Ojibway chief, who had been educated in Europe. Whether 
or not Schoolcraft's work is scientific, this much may 
be said, — that he has preserved much legendary Indian 
lore that would otherwise have been lost, however 
different and changed this lore may be from the true ab- 
original traditions. 

Longfellow felt and acknowledged his full debt to 
Schoolcraft. In his own notes that accompanied the 
first edition of the poem, he said: 



Introduction to The Song of Iliaicdtha 109 

"This Indian Edda — if I may so call it — is founded on 
a tradition prevalent among the North American Indians, 
of a personage of miraculous birth, who was sent among 
them to clear their rivers, forests, and fishing-grounds, and 
Longfellow's ^^ teach them the arts of peace. He was 

Debt to known among the different tribes by the 

Schoolcraft several names of Michabou, Chiabo, 

Manabozo, Tarenyawagon, and Hiawatha. Mr. School- 
craft gives an account of him in his Algic Researches, 
Vol. I. p. 134; and in his History, Condition, and Prospects 
of the Indian Tribes of the United States, Part III. p. 314, 
may be found the Iroquois form of the tradition, derived 
from the verbal narrations of an Onondaga chief. 

''Into this old tradition I have woven other curious 
Indian legends, drawn chiefly from the various and valu- 
able writings of Mr. Schoolcraft, to whom the literary 
world is greatly indebted for his indefatigable zeal in 
rescuing from oblivion so much of the legendary lore of 
the Indians." 

The form of the poem, like the subject -matter, has an 
interesting history. Longfellow was reading the Finnish 

Epic, Kalevala, at the time his ideas 
The Form seem to have been crystallizing in regard 

to the subject-matter of his proposed 
poem; and the meter of Hiawatha is the meter of the 
Kalevala, the eight syllabled trochaic with frequent alliter- 
ation and a peculiar monotony of beat, said to be the 
characteristic verse of the Finns. This meter is very 



110 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

old, probably dating to ante-Christian times. The tro- 
chaic tetrameter is wonderfully adapted to the charac- 
teristic style of the poem, — frequent 
The Kalevala . . •^ , nil • 

repetitions and parallels. A compari- 
son of a few lines of Hiawatha with the following trans- 
lation from the thirty-sixth Rune of the Kalevala will 
show how completely Longfellow adopted the meter and 
style, including repetitions and parallels, as the medium 
for his poem. 

Rune XXXVI, 298-321. 

Kiillerwoinen, wicked wizard, 

Grasps the handle of his broadsword, 

Asks the blade this simple question: 

'Tell me, O my blade of honor, 

Dost thou wish to drink my life-blood, 

Drink the blood of Kullerwoinen?' 

Thus his trusty sword makes answer, 

Well-divining his intentions: 

'Why should I not drink thy life-blood. 

Blood of guilty Kullerwoinen, 

Since I feast upon the worthy, 

Drink the life-blood of the righteous?' 

Thereupon the youth, Kullervo, 

Wicked wizard of the Northland, 

Lifts the mighty sword of Ukko, 

Bids adieu to earth and heaven; 

Firmly thrusts the hilt in heather. 

To his heart he points the weapon, J 

Throws his weight upon his broad-sword, ] 

Pouring out his wicked life-blood, j 

\i 
4 



i 



Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 111 

Ere he journeys to Manala. 
Thus the wizard finds destruction, 
This the end of Kullerwoinen 
Born in sin, and nursed in folly. ^ 

The derivative nature of both form and substance 

of The Song of Hiawatha, led the hostile critics 

to bring forth charges of plagiarism, and for a year 

and a half following the publication of the poem, 

Longfellow found himself in the midst of attack and 

defense. Schiefner's German trans- 

arges o hition of the Kalevala in the original 

Plagiarism i • o -i i 

meter had appeared m 1852, three years 

before Hiawatha. Longfellow was charged by his critics 
with having borrowed both the meter and the incidents 
for his Hiawatha from Schiefner's work, with which 
he confessed himself thoroughly accjuainted. The 
poet felt keenly the injustice of the attacks upon 
his literary honesty. A letter to his friend, Charles 
Sumner, December 3, 1855, in answer to a harsh criti- 
cism in a Washington paper, contains a clear acknowl- 
edgment of his debt to Schoolcraft as w^ell as to the 
Kalevala, and disposes finally of the charge of improper 
borrowing from either. 

"This is truly one the greatest literary outrages lever 
heard of. But I think it is done mainly to show the 

learning of the writer He will stand finally in 

the position of the man who makes public assertions he 
cannot substantiate. You see what the charge of imita- 

1— Freely rendered into English verse by John Martin Crawford. 



112 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

tion amounts to by the extracts given. As to my hav- 
ing taken many of the most striking incidents of the 
Finnish Epic and transferred them to the American 
Indians' — it is absurd. I can give chapter and verse for 
these legends. Their chief value is that they are Indian 
legends. I know the Kalevala very well; and that some 
of its legends resemble the Indian stories preserved by 
Schoolcraft is very true. But the idea of making me 
responsible for that is too ludicrous. " 

Though The Song of Hiawatha is based upon a 
peculiarly American subject, it is wrong to claim for the 
poem what some over-friendly critics maintained, — that 
"The Song ^* ^^ **^ Forest Epic," a "Native Amer- 

of Hiawatha" ican poem," '*an Indian Edda;" ''our 
an Artistic nearest approach to an American Epic," 

Adaptation ^,^^ j^^p-^ j^ ^^^ great a term, and im- 

plies too much, to be applied to this poem. Epic poetry 
involves a natural growth and a natural spirit that are wholly 
foreign to Hiawatha. It is an epic poem only in the 
generic sense of being a narrative. Extravagant praise 
and unwarranted claims are not necessary for an apprecia- 
tion of its charm. Those who like the poem like it for 
what it is, for what the author himself saw it to be, — merely 
a putting together of the legends and customs of a race 
known to him only through his books. The scenes of the 
poem, never visited by him, are pictured from bookish 
knov/ledge of geographical accounts, and his descriptions 
are the conventional descriptions of a writer who sees 
nature in her wildest haunts only with his mind's eye, by 



Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 113 

the fireside of his study. Again, the characters of tlie poem 
are ideahzed beyond all warrant. Longfellow was too 
much a writer of sentiment to be able to keep out of the 
poem the human sympathy and tender sentiment so char- 
acteristic of his literary work as a whole. This is the 
basis upon which his detractors, among the scientists 
and historians, found their objections to the work,— that 
it is poetry, sentiment, idealization, not a contribution to 
the literature that helps to explain the American Indian, 
or to reflect his life and thought. It is not a natural poem, 
born of the forest and of the myths of a vanishing race ; it 
is an art poem, born of the author's conception of what con- 
stitutes an artistic subject with all its purely literary and 
rhetorical adornments. As Professor Newcomer admi- 
rably suggests in his American Literature, The Song of 
Hiawatha is no more a poem of the soil than the poem 
an Englishman might write of the aboriginal Bushmen of 
Australia. The subject-matter is Schoolcraft's; the form 
and style are Finnish; the art of adapting the former to 
the latter is Longfellow's. His use of Schoolcraft's ma- 
terial shows skill in the principle of artistic selection. 
Omitting much that he knew would contradict the im- 
pression he desired to leave, he has given an idealization to 
his characters by the use of just such legends as would 
aid his object. 

The chief character, Hiawatha, is a composite; and here, 
the artist is seen again in the re-creation of an ideal person- 
age from elements of diverse source. The name Hiawatha 



114 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

is first associated with a legendary Onondaga chief of East- 
ern Iroquois stock of the fifteenth century. Many noble as 

well as many trivial traits were attrib- 
TT- ,xr^ ' iited to him by the traditional accounts 

of the Indians themselves. But the 
character Longfellow had in mind, and around whom he 
proposed to make the poem revolve, was Manabozho, the 
culture hero of the West Algonquins. In his diary of 
June 25, 1854, he writes: 

*'I could not help this evening making a beginning on 
Manabozho f or whatever the poem is to be called. His 
adventures will form the theme at all events." An entry 
the following week shows that he had adopted the more 
euphonious name, Hiawatha: "Worked at Hiawatha, 
as I do more or less every day. It is purely in the realm 
of fancy." Thus he continues to attribute western Algon- 
quin traditions to an eastern Iroquois hero. It is interest- 
ing to note that the two Indian stocks which furnished 
these prototypes of the hero, were inveterate enemies, con- 
stantly at war with each other. 

To know Hiawatha, then, one needs to know Mana- 
bozho. According to Parkman, he was the culture hero 

and ruler of the gods and animals among 
lawa a- ^j^^ Algonquin tribes. He is represented 

Manabozho i • • , • i 

as the prmcipal agent m the work of 

creation, the teacher of the various Indian arts of hunting, 
fishing, and the like, the destroyer of monsters, the neu- 
tralizer of evil influences, and withal a great trickster. 



Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 115 

"This Manabozho was the most conspicuous of the 
partly mythical characters of Algonquin tradition. He 
was known among that tribe under the various names of 
Manabozho, Messou, Michabou, Nanabush, or the Great 
Hare. He is king of all the animal kings. According to 
the most current belief, his father was the West Wind and 
his mother a greatgranddaughter of the moon. His char- 
acter is worthy of such a parentage. Sometimes he is a 
wolf, a bird, or a gigantic hare surrounded by a court of 
quadrupeds; sometimes he appears in human shape, 
majestic in stature and wondrous in endowment, a mighty 
magician, a destroyer of serpents and evil manitous; some- 
times he is a vain and treacherous imp, full of childish 
whims and petty trickery, the butt and victim of men, 
beasts, and spirits. His powers of transformation are 
v/ithout limit; his curiosity and malice are insatiable; and 
of the numberless legends of which he is the hero, the 
greater part are as trivial as they are incoherent."—^ 
As with Hiawatha, so with the other characters of the 
poem,— Longfellow did with them v/hat his artistic sense 
The Other required. They are introduced in strik- 

Characters ^"^ contrast with the central hero, (as in 

the case of Mudjekeewis, Pearl-Feather, 
and Pau-Puk-Keewis,) to accentuate his virtues, or to add 
to them by associating with him such characters as lagoo, 
Kwasind, and Chibiabos. The romance and pathos 
centering around the lovely Minnehaha are essential to 
the human sympathy required of the reader by the poet, 
but are certainly not to be taken as accurate representa- 
tions of Indian life. 

iParkman, The Jesuits in North America. 



116 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

What, then, is the value of a poem so startHngly lacking 

in originaHty, so full of inconsistencies in its ideal creations, 

so monotonous in metrical effect? We 

cannot call it an epic unless we qualify it 

by the word artificial; we cannot call it 

a true nature poem, for though the descriptions, when 

taken separately, appear to have the elements of a scene 

from nature, in the aggregate they lack the local color 

and the definite visualization of the true nature poet. We 

cannot read the poem in continuous stretches without being 

wearied by its parallelisms and repetitions of thought. 

On the other hand, if we judge the work in parts, the 
style of the poem must be pronounced graceful and easy. 
The meter adds a charm of novelty to an already novel 
subject-matter. The poem is an artistic weaving together 
of the worthiest legends of the North American Indians 
whose virtues, idealized, are the virtues common to the 
heroes of every race. The charm of the poem — and 
charm it has — lies in the human sympathy that pervades 
it and the noble sentiments it inculcates. We forget 
that we are reading of the deeds of a primitive hero, when 
we are touched by the humanity of such an appeal as this: 

Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, 
Who have faith in God and Nature, 
Who beheve, that in all ages 
Every human heart is human, 
That in even savage bosoms 
There are longings, yearnings, strivings 
For the good they comprehend not, 



Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha 117 

That the feeble hands and helpless, 
Groping blindly in the darkness, 
Touch God's right hand in that darkness 
And are lifted up and strengthened; — 
Listen to this simple story, 
To this Song of Hiawatha! 

It is this element in the poem that led Emerson to say of 
it, — "It is sweet and wholesome as maize.'* 



THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 

Should you ask me, whence these stories? 
Whence these legends and traditions, 
With the odors of the forest, 
Witli the dew and damp of meadows, 

5 With the curHng smoke of wigwams, 

With the rushing of great rivers, 
With their frequent repetitions, 
And their wild reverberations. 
As of thunder in the mountains? 

10 1 should answer, I should tell you, 

"From the forests and the prairies, 
From the great lakes of the Northland, 
From the land of the Ojibways, 
From the land of the Dacotahs, 

15 From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands, 

Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Feeds among the reeds and rushes. 
I repeat them as I heard them 
From the lips of Nawadaha, 

20 The musician, the sweet singer." 

Should you ask where Nawadaha 
Foufid these songs, so wild and wayward 
Found these legends and traditions, 
I should answer, I should tell you, 

25 "In the bird's-nests of the forest, 

In the lodges of the beaver, 
In the hoof-prints of the bison, 
In the eyry of the eagle! 

" All the wild-fowl sang them to him, 

30 In the moorlands and the fen-lands. 

In the melancholy marshes; 
Chetowaik, the plover, sang them, 
Mahng, the loon, the wild goose, Wawa, 
The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 

35 And the grouse, the Mushkodasa!" 

If still further you should ask me, 
Saying, "Who was Nawadaha? 

118 



The Song of Hiawatha 119 

Tell us of this Nawadaha," 

I should answer your inquiries 
40 Straightway in such words as follow 

"In the Vale of Tawasentha, 

In the green and silent valley, 

By the pleasant w^ater-courses, 

Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 
45 Round about the Indian village 

Spread the meadows and the cornfields, 

And beyond them stood the forest. 

Stood the groves of singing pine-trees. 

Green in Summer, white in Winter, 
50 Ever sighing, ever singing. 

"And the pleasant water-courses, 

You could trace them through the valley. 

By the rushing in the Spring-time, 

By the alders in the Summer, 
55 By the white fog in the Autumn, 

By the black line in the "Winter; 

And beside thepi dwelt the singer. 

In the Vale of Tawasentha, 

In the green and silent valley. 
60 "There he sang of Hiawatha, 

Sang the Song cf Hiawatha, 

Sang his wondrous birth and being. 

How he prayed and how he fasted, 

How he lived, and toiled, and suffered, 
65 That the tribes of men might prosper. 

That he might advance his people!" 
Ye who love the haunts of Nature, 

Love the sunshine of the meadow, 

Love the shadow of the forest, 
70 Love the wind among the branches, 

And the rain-shower and the snow-storm, 

And the rushing of great rivers 

Through their palisades of pine-trees. 

And the thunder in the mountains, 
75 Whose innumerable echoes 

Flap like eagles in their eyries; — 

Listen to these wild traditions, 

To this Song of Hiawatha! 

Ye who love a nation's legends, 



120 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

80 Love the ballads of a people, 

That like voices from afar off 
Call to us to pause and listen, 
Speak in tones so plain and childlike, 
Scarcely can the ear distinguish 

85 Whether they are sung or spoken; — 

Listen to this Indian Legend, 
To this Song of Hiawatha! 

Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple, 
Who have faith in God and Nature, 

90 Who believe, that in all ages 

Every human heart is human, 
That in even savage bosoms 
There are longings, yearnings, strivings 
For the good they comprehend not, 

95 That the feeble hands and helpless. 

Groping blindly in the darkness, 
Touch Ciod's right hand in that darkness 
And are lifted up and strengthened; — 
Listen to this simple story,, 

100 To this Song of Hiawatha! 

Ye, who sometimes, in your rambles, 
Through the green lanes of the country. 
Where the tangled barberry-bushes 
Hang their tufts of crimson berries 

105 Over stone walls gray with mosses, 

Pause by some neglected graveyard, 
For a while to muse, and ponder 
On a half-effaced inscription. 
Written with little skill of song-craft, 

110 Homely phrases, but each letter 

Full of hope and yet of heart-break, 
Full of all the tender pathos 
Of the Here and the Hereafter; — 
Stay and read this rude inscription, 

115 Read this Song of Hiawatha! 



THE PEACE-PIPE 

On the Mountains of the Prairie, 
On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry, 



The Song of Hiawatha 121 



Gitche Manito, the mighty, 

He the Master of Light, descending, 

5 On the red crags of the quarry- 

Stood erect, and called the nations, 
Called the tribes of men together. 

From his footprints flowed a river, 
Leaped into the light of morning, 

10 O'er the precipice plunging downward 

Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. 
And the Spirit, stooping earthward, 
With his finger on the meadow 
Traced a winding pathway for it, 

15 Saying to it, " Run in this way! " 

From the red stone of the quarry 
With his hand he broke a fragment, 
Moulded it into a pipe-head. 
Shaped and fashioned it with figures; 

20 From the margin of the river 

Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, 
With its dark green leaves upon it; 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
With the bark of the red willow; 

25 Breathed upon the neighboring forest, 

Made its great boughs chafe together. 
Till in flame they burst and kindled; 
And erect upon the mountains, 
Gitche Manito, the mighty, 

30 Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe, 

As a signal to the nations. 

And the smoke rose slowly, slowly, 
Through the tranquil air of morning, 
First a single line of darkness, 

35 Then a denser, bluer vapor. 

Then a snow-white cloud unfolding. 
Like the tree-tops of the forest, 
Ever rising, rising, rising. 
Till it touched the top of heaven, 

40 Till it broke against the heaven, 

And rolled outward all around it. 
From the Vale of Tawasentha, 
From the Valley of Wyoming, 
From the groves of Tuscaloosa, 



122 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 



45 From the far-off Rocky Mountains, | 

From the Northern lakes and rivers, ! 

All the tribes beheld the signal, j 

Saw the distant smoke ascending, j 

The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. \ 

50 And the Prophets of the nations j 

Said: ''Behold it, the Pukwana! ] 

By this signal from afar off, ] 
Bending like a wand of willow, 

Waving like a hand that beckons, | 

55 Gitche Manito, the mighty, ; 

Calls the tribes of men together, '\ 

Calls the warriors to his council! " j 

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies, , 

Came the warriors of the nations, j 

60 Came the Dela wares and Mohawks, 

Came the Choctaws and Camanches, \ 

Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, ; 

Came the Pawnees and Omahas, I 

Came the Mandans and Dacotahs, . 

65 Came the Hurons and Ojibways, ■ 

All the warriors drawn together ' 

By the signal of the Peace-Pipe, j 

To the Mountains of the Prairie, I 

To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry. j 

70 And the}'' stood there on the meadow, ; 

With their weapons and their war gear, j 

Painted like the leaves of Autumn, \ 

Painted like the sky of morning, ' 

Wildly glaring at each other; ' 

75 In their faces stern defiance, ! 

In their hearts the feuds of ages, j 

The hereditary hatred, I 
The ancestral thirst of vengeance. 

Gitche Manito, the mighty, ^ 

80 The creator of the nations, , 

Looked upon them with compassion, 

With paternal love and pity; \ 
Looked upon their wrath and wrangling 

But as quarrels among children, i 

85 But as feuds and fights of children! 1 

Over them he stretched his right hand, 



The Song of Hiawatha 123 

To subdue their stubborn natures, 

To allay their thirst and fever, 

By the shadow of his right hand; 
90 Spake to them with voice majestic 

As the sound of far-off waters, 

Falling into deep abysses, 

Warning, chiding, spake in this wise: — 
"O my children! my poor children! 
95 Listen to the words of wisdom, 

Listen to the words of warning. 

From the lips of the Great Spirit, 

From the Master of Life, who made you. 
"I have given you lands to hunt in, 
100 I have given you streams to fish in, 

I have given you bear and bison, 

I have given you roe and reindeer, 

I have given you brant and beaver. 

Filled the marshes full of wild-fowl, 
105 Filled the rivers full of fishes; 

Why then are you not contented? 

Why then will you hunt each other? 
"I am weary of your quarrels. 

Weary of your wars and bloodshed, 
II Weary of your prayers for vengeance, 

Of your wranglings and dissensions; 

All your strength is in your union, 

All your danger is in discord; 

Therefore be at peace henceforward, 
115 And as brothers live together. 

"I will send a Prophet to you, 

A Deliverer of the nations, 

Who shall guide you and shall teach you, 

Who shall toil and suffer with you. 
1 20 If you listen to his counsels. 

You will multiply and prosper; 

If his warnings pass unheeded. 

You will fade away and perish! 

"Bathe now in the stream before you, 
1 25 Wash the war-paint from your faces, 

Wash the blood-stains from your fingers. 

Bury your v/ar-clubs and your weapons, 

Break the red stone from this quarry, 



124 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes, i 
130 Take the reeds that grow beside you, • \ 
Deck them with your brightest feathers, 
Smoke the calumet together, 
And as brothers live henceforward! " 

Then upon the ground the warriors ■ 

135 Threw their cloaks and shirts of deerskin, \ 

Threw their weapons and their war-gear, i 

Leaped into the rushing river. j 

Washed the war-paint from their faces. \ 

Clear above them flowed the water, i 



1 40 Clear and limpid from the footprints ] 

Of the Master of Life descending; 1 

Dark below them flowed the water, ^ 

Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson, ^ 
As if blood were mingled with it! 

145 From the river came the warriors, \ 

Clean and washed from all their war-paint; \ 

On the banks their clubs they buried, i 

Buried all their warlike weapons. \ 

Gitche Manito, the mighty, \ 

150 The Great Spirit, the creator, \ 

Smiled upon his helpless children! I 

And in silence all the warriors - ■ 

Broke the red stone of the quarry, i 

Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes, 

155 Broke the long reeds by the river, ; 

Decked them with their brightest feathers, ; 
And departed each one homeward, 

While the Master of Life, ascending, ; 
Through the opening of cloud-curtains, 

160 Through the doorways of the heaven, i 

Vanished from before their faces, i 

In the smoke that rolled around him, ; 

The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe! ; 

i 

II ' 

THE FOUR WINDS | 

"Honor be to Mudjekeewis! " ' \ 

Cried the warriors, cried the old men, i 



The Song of Hiawatha 125 

When he came in triumph homeward 

With the sacred Belt of Wampum, 
5 From the regions of the North-Wind, 

From the kingdom of Wabasso, 

From the land of the White Rabbit. 
He had stolen the Belt of Wampum 

From the neck of Mishe-Mokwa, 
10 From the Great Bear of the mountains, 

From the terror of the nations, 

As he lay asleep and cumbrous 

On the summit of the mountains, 

Like a rock with mosses on it, 
15 Spotted brown and gray with mosses. 

Silently he stole upon him, 

Till the red nails of the monster 

Almost touched him, almost scared him, 

Till the hot breath of his nostrils 
20 Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis, 

As he drew the Belt of Wampum 

Over the round ears, that heard not, 

Over the small eyes, that saw not. 

Over the long nose and nostrils, 
25 The black muffle of the nostrils, 

Out of which the heavy breathing 

Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis. 
Then he swung aloft his war-club, 

Shouted loud and long his war-cry, 
30 Smote the mighty Mishe-Mokwa 

In the middle of the forehead. 

Right between the eyes he smote him. 
With the heavy blow bewildered. 

Rose the Great Bear of the mountains; 
35 But his knees beneath him trembled, 

And he whimpered like a woman. 

As he reeled and staggered forward. 

As he sat upon his haunches; 

And the mighty Mudjekeewis, 
40 Standing fearlessly before him, 

Taunted him in loud derision. 

Spake disdainfully in this wise: — 
"Hark you. Bear! you are a coward, 

And no Brave, as you pretended; 



126 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

45 Else you would not cry and whimper 

Like a miserable woman! 
Bear! you know our tribes are hostile, 
Long have been at war together; 
Now you find that we are strongest, 

50 You go sneaking in the forest, 

You go hiding in the mountains! 
Had you conquered me in battle 
Not a groan would I have uttered; 
But you, Bear! sit here and whimper, 

55 And disgrace your tribe by crying, 

Like a wretched Shaugodaya, 
Like a cowardly old woman! " 

Then again he raised his war-club, 
Smote again the Mishe-Mokwa^ 

60 In the middle of his forehead, 

Broke his skull, as ice is broken 
When one goes to fish in Winter 
Thus was slain the Mishe-Mokwa, 
He the Great Bear of the mountains, 

65 He the terror of the nations. 

"Honor be to Mudjekeewis! " 
With a shout exclaimed the people. 
"Honor be to Mudjekeewis! 
Henceforth he shall be the West- Wind, 

70 And hereafter and forever 

Shall he hold supreme dominion 
Over all the winds of heaven. 
Call him no more Mudjekeewis, 
Call Wm Kabeyun, the West-Wind! " 

75 Thus was Mudjekeewis chosen 

Father of the Winds of Heaven. 
For himself he kept the West- Wind, 
Gave the others to his children; 
Unto Wabun gave the East- Wind, 

80 Gave the South to Shawondasee, 

And the North- Wind, wild and cruel, 
To the fierce Kabibonokka. 

Young and beautiful was Wabun; 
He it was who brought the morning, 

85 He it was whose silver arrows 

Chased the dark o'er hill and valley; 



The Song of Hiawatha 127 

He it was whose cheeks were painted 

With the brightest streaks of crimson, 

And whose voice awoke the village, 
90 Called the deer, and called the hunter. 

Lonely in the sky was Wabun; 

Though the birds sang gayly to him, 

Though the wild-flowers of the meadow 

Filled the air with odors for him, 
95 Though the forests and the rivers 

Sang and shouted at his coming. 

Still his heart was sad within him. 

For he was alone in heaven. 

But one morning, gazing earthv/ard, 
100 While the village still was sleeping, 

And the fog lay on the river, 

Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 

He beheld a maiden walking 

All alone upon a meadow, 
105 Gathering water-flags and rushes 

By a river in the meadow. 

Every morning, gazing earthward. 

Still the first thing he beheld there 

Was her blue eyes looking at him, 
110 Two blue lakes among the rushes. 

And he loved the lonely maiden, 

Who thus waited for his coming; 

For they both were solitary. 

She on earth and he in heaven. 
115 And he wooed her with caresses, 

Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, 

With his flattering words he wooed her, 

With his sighing and his singing. 

Gentlest whispers in the branches, 
120 Softest music, sweetest odors, 

Till he drew her to his bosom. 

Folded in his robes of crimson, 

Till into a star he changed her. 

Trembling still upon his bosom; 
125 And forever in the heavens 

They are seen together walking, 

Wabun and the Wabun- Annung, 

Wabun and the Star of Morning. 



123 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

But the fierce Kabibonokka 

130 Had his dwelhng among icebergs, 

In the everlasting snow-drifts, 
In the kingdom of Wabasso, 
In the land of the White Rabbit. 
He it was whose hand in Autumn 

1 35 Painted all the trees with scarlet, 

Stained the leaves with red and yellow; 
He it was who sent the snow-flakes, 
Sifting, hissing through the forest, 
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers, 

140 Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, 

Drove the cormorant and curlew 
To their nests of sedge and sea-tang 
In the realms of Shawondasee. 
Once the fierce Kabibonokka 

145 Issued from his lodge of snow-drifts. 

From his home among the icebergs, 
And his hair, with snow besprinkled 
Streamed behind him like a river, 
Like a black and wintry river, 

150 As he howled and hurried southward, 

Over frozen lakes and moorlands. 

There among the reeds and rushes 
Found he Shingebis, the diver. 
Trailing strings of fish behind him, 

155 O'er the frozen fens and moorlands, 

Lingering still among the moorlands, 
Though his tribe had long departed 
To the land of Shawondasee. 
Cried the fierce Kabibonokka, 

160 "Who is this that dares to brave me? 

Dares to stay in my dominions, 
When the Wawa has departed. 
When the wild-goose has gone southward, 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 

165 Long ago departed southward? 

I will go into his wigwam, 
I will put his smouldering fire out! " 

And at night Kabibonokka 
To the lodge came wild and wailing, 

170 Heaped the snow in drifts about it, 



The Song of Hiawatha 129 

Shouted down into the smoke-flue, 

Shook the lodge-poles in his fury, 

Flapped the curtain of the door-way. 

Shingebis, the diver, feared not, 
175 Shingebis, the diver, cared not; 

Four great logs had he for fire-wood, 

One for each moon of the winter. 

And for food the fishes served him. 

By his blazing fire he sat there, 
180 Warm and merry, eating, laughing, 

Singing, "O Kabibonokka, 

You are but my fellow-mortal!" 
Then Kabibonokka entered, 

And though Singebis, the diver, 
185 Felt his presence by the coldness, 

Felt his icy breath upon him, 

Still he did not cease his singing, 

Still he did not leave his laughing. 

Only turned the log a little, 
190 Only made the fire burn brighter 

Made the sparks fly up the smoke-flue. 
From Kabibonokka 's forehead. 

From his snow-besprinkled tresses. 

Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy, 
195 Making dints upon the ashes, 

As along the eaves of lodges, 

As from drooping boughs of hemlock. 

Drips the melting snow in spring-time. 

Making hollov/s in the snow-drifts. 
200 Till at last he rose defeated 

Could. not bear the heat and laughter. 

Could not bear the merry singing. 

But rushed headlong through the door-way. 

Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts, 
205 Stamped upon the lakes and rivers, 

Made the snow upon them harder. 

Made the ice upon them thicker. 

Challenged Shingebis, the diver. 

To come forth and wrestle with him, 
210 To come forth and wrestle naked 

On the frozen fens and moorlands. 
Forth went Shingebis, the diver, 



13<^ Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Wrestled all night with the North-Wind, 
Wrestled naked on the moorlands 

215 With the fierce Kabibonokka, 

Till his panting breath grew fainter, 
Till his frozen grasp grew feebler, 
Till he reeled and staggered backward, 
And retreated, baffled, beaten, 

220 To the kingdom of Wabasso, 

To the land of the White Rabbit, 
Hearing still the gusty laughter, 
Hearing Shingebis, the diver. 
Singing, "O Kabibonokka, 

225 You are but my fellow-mortal!'' 

Shawondasee, fat and lazy, 
Had his dwelling far to southward, 
In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine, 
In the never-ending Summer. 

230 He it was who sent the wood-birds, 

Sent the robin, the Opechee, 
Sent the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 
Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow, 
Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward, 

235 Sent the melons and tobacco, 

And the grapes in purple clusters. 

From his pipe the smoke ascending 
Filled the sky with haze and vapor, 
Filled the air with dreamy softness, 

240 Gave a twinkle to the water. 

Touched the rugged hills with smoothness, 
Brought the tender Indian Summer 
To the melancholy north-land, i ; . 
In the dreary Moon of Snow-shoes. 

245 Listless, careless Shawondasee! 

In his life he had one shadow, 
In his heart one sorrow had he. 
Once, as he was gazing northward, 
Far away upon a prairie 

250 He beheld a maiden standing, 

Saw a tall and slender maiden 
All alone upon a prairie; 
Brightest green were all her garments, 
And her hair was like the sunshine. 



The Song of Hiawatha 131 

255 Day by day he gazed upon her, 

Day by day he sighed with passion, 

Day by day his heart within him 

Grew more hot with love and longing 

For the maid with yellow tresses. 
260 But he was too fat and lazy 

To bestir himself and woo her; 

•Yes, too indolent and easy 

To pursue her and persuade her. 

So he only gazed upon her, 
205 Only sat and sighed with passion 

For the maiden of the prairie. 

Till one morning, looking northward, 

He beheld her yellow tresses 

Changed and covered o'er with whiteness, 
270 Covered as with whitest snow-flakes. 

"Ah! my brother from the North-land, 

From the kingdom of Wabasso, 

From the land of the White Rabbit! 

You have stolen the maiden from me, 
275 You have laid your hand upon her. 

You have wooed and won my maiden, 

With your stories of the North-land! " 
Thus the wretched Shawondasee 

Breathed into the air his sorrow; 
283 And the South- Wind o'er the prairie 

Wandered warm with sighs of passion, 

With the sighs of Shawondasee, 

Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes, 

Full of thistle-down the prairie, 
285 And the maid with hair like sunshine 

Vanished from his sight forever; 

Never more did Shawondasee 

See the maid with yellow tresses! 
Poor, deluded Shawondasee! 
290 'T was no woman that you gazed at, 

'T Tv^as no maiden that you sighed for, 

'T was the prairie dandelion 

That through all the dreamy Summer 

You had gazed at with such longing, 
295 You had sighed for with such passion. 

And had puffed away forever, 



132 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Blown into the air with sighing. 
Ah! deluded Shawondasce! 

Thus the Four Winds were divided; 
300 Thus the sons of Mudjekeewis 

Had their stations in the heavens; 
At the corners of the heavens ; 
For himself the West-Wind only 
. Kept the mighty Mudjekeewis. 



Ill 

Hiawatha's childhood 

Downward through the evening twilight. 
In the days that are forgotten, 
In the unremembered ages, 
From the full moon fell Nokomis, 
5 Fell the beautiful Nokomis, 

She a wife, but not a mother. 

She was sporting with her women, 
Swinging in a swing of grape-vines, 
When her rival, the rejected, 

10 Full of jealousy and hatred, 

Cut the leafy swing asunder. 
Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines, 
And Nokomis fell affrighted 
Downward through the evening twilight, 

15 On the Muskoday, the meadow, 

On the prairie full of blossoms. 
"See! a star falls! " said the people; 
"From the sky a star is falHng! " 
There among the ferns and mosses, 

20 There among the prairie lilies, 

On the Muskoday, the meadow, 
In the moonlight and the starlight, 
Fair Nokomis bore a daughter. 
And she called her name Wenonah, 

25 As the first-born of her daughters. 

And the daughter of Nokomis 
Grew up like the prairie lilies, 
Grew a tall and slender maiden, 



The Song of Hiawatha 133 

With the beauty of the moonhght, 
With the beauty of the starhght. 

And Nokomis warned her often, 
Saying oft, and oft repeating, 
"O, beware of Mudjekeewis, 
Of the West- Wind, Mudjekeewis; 
Listen not to what he tells you; 
Lie not down upon the meadow. 
Stoop not down among the lilies, 
Lest the West- Wind come and harm you!" 

But she heeded not the warning, 
Heeded not those words of wisdom, 
And the West- Wind came at evening, 
Walking lightly o'er the prairie, 
Whispering to the leaves and blossoms. 
Bending low the flowers and grasses, 
Found the beautiful Wenonah, 
Lying there among the lilies, 
Wooed her with his words of sweetness, 
Wooed lier with his soft caresses. 
Till she bore a son in sorrow. 
Bore a son of love and sorrow. 

Thus was born rxij Hiawatha, 
Thus was born the child of wonder; 
But the daughter of Nokomis, 
Hiawatha's gentle mother, 
In her anguish died deserted 
By the West- Wind, false and faithless, 
By the heartless Mudjekeewis. 

For her daughter, long and loudly 
Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis; 
"O that I were dead! " she murmured, 
"^O that I were dead, as thou art! 
No more work, and no more weeping, 
Wahonowin! Wahonowin! " 

By the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
By the shining Big-Sea- Water, 
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis, 
Dark behind it rose the forest. 
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees. 
Rose the firs with cones upon them; 



134 Narrative Poems of Longfellow ■ 

Bright before it beat the water, ' 

Beat the clear and sunny water, ;; 

Beat the shining Big-Sea- Water. ■] 

There the wrinkled, old Nokomis 'i 

75 Nursed the little Hiawatha, /! 

Rocked him in his linden cradle, i 

Bedded soft in moss and rushes, ^ 

Safely bound with reindeer sinews; i 

Stilled his fretful wail by saying. < 

80 "Hush! the Naked Bear will get thee!" i 

Lulled him into slumber, singing, 

"Ewa-yea! my little owlet! 

Who is this, that lights the wigwam? 

With his great eyes lights the wigwam? ; 
85 Ewa-yea! my little owlet! " 

Many things Nokomis taught him 

Of the stars that shine in heaven; 

Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet, ; 

Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses; l 

90 Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits, { 

Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs^ 

Flaring far away to northward : 

In the frosty nights of Winter; ! 

Showed the broad, white road in heaven, ; 

95 Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows, ^ 

Running straight across the heavens, ■ 

Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. ; 

At the door on summer evenings i 

Sat the little Hiawatha; ?] 

1 00 Heard the whispering of the pine-trees, ^ 

Heard the lapping of the water, 5 

Sounds of music, words of wonder; 

"Minne-wawa! '' said the pine-trees, '", 

"Mudway-aushka! " said the water. ^ 

105 Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee, ■ 

Flitting through the dusk of evening, .; 

With the twinkle of its candle j 

Lighting up the brakes and bushes, | 

And he sang the song of children, 
110 Sang the song Nokomis taught him: 

" Wah-wah-taysee, little fire-fly. 

Little, flitting, white-fire insect, 



The Song oj Hiawatha 135 

Little, dancing, white-fire creature, 
Light me with your Httle candle, 
Ere upon my bed I lay me, 
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids! " 

Saw the moon rise from the water, 
Rippling, rounding from the water. 
Saw the fiecks and shadows on it, 
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" 
And the good Nokomis answered: 
" Once a warrior, very angry, 
Seized his grandmother, and threw her 
Up into the sky at midnight; 
Right against the moon he threw her; 
'Tis her body that you see there." 

Saw the rainbow in the heaven. 
In the eastern sky, the rainbow. 
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" 
And the good Nokomis answered: 
" 'Tis the heaven of flowers you sec there; 
All the wild-flowers of the forest. 
All the lilies of the prairie. 
When on earth they fade and perish.. 
Blossom in that heaven above us." 

When he heard the owls at midnight, 
Hooting, laughing in the forest, 
"What is that?" he cried in terror; 
"What is that?" he said, "Nokomis?" 
And the good Nokomis answered: 
" That is but the owl and owlet. 
Talking in their native language. 
Talking, scolding at each other," 

Then the little Hiawatha 
Learned of every bird its language. 
Learned their names and all their secrets. 
How they built their nests in Summer, 
Where they hid themselves in Winter, 
Talked with them whene'er he met them, 
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens." 

Of all beasts he learned the language. 
Learned their names and all their secrets, 
How the beavers built their lodges, 
.Where the squirrels hid their acorns, 



136 Narrative Poems of LongjclUno 

155 How the reindeer ran so swiftly, 

Why the rabbit was so timid, 

Talked with them whene'er he met them, • | 

Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers." 1 

Then lagoo, the great boaster, , 

160 He the marvellous story-teller, j 

He the traveller and the talker, j 

He the friend of old Nokomis, I 

Made a bow for Hiawatha; ' 

From a branch of ash he made it, 
165 From an oak-bough made the arrows, 

Tipped with flint, and winged with feathers, 

And the cord he made of deer-skin. i 

Then he said to Hiawatha: 1 

"Go, my son, into the forest, ^ 

170 Where the red deer herd together, 

Kill for us a famous roebuck, 

Kill for us a deer with antlers! ^' 

Forth into the forest straightway . j 

All alone walked Hiawatha 
175 Proudly, with his bow and arrows; 

And the birds sang round him, o'er him, ^ 

"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" j 

Sang the robin, the Opechee, 

Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, ' i 

180 "Do not shoot us, Hiawatha! " ; 

Up the oak-tree, close beside him, ,^ 

Sprang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, i 

In and out among the branches, \ 

Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree, ; 

185 Laughed, and said between his laughing 

"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" 

And the rabbit from his pathway :^ 

Leaped aside, and at a distance i 

Sat erect upon his haunches, ^ 

190 Half in fear and half in frolic, ■ 

Saying to the little hunter, 

"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha! " 

But he heeded not, nor heard them, i 

For his thoughts were with the red deer; ■ 

195 On their tracks his eyes were fastened, • 

Leading downward to the river. I 



The Song of Hiawatha 137 

To the ford across the river, 

And as one in slumber walked he. 
Hidden in the alder-bushes, 
200 There he waited till the deer came, 

Till he saw two antlers lifted. 

Saw two eyes look from the thicket, 

Saw two nostrils point to windward. 

And a deer came down the pathway, 
205 Flecked with leafy light and shadow. 

And his heart within him fluttered 

Trembled like the leaves above him. 

Like the birch-leaf palpitated. 

As the deer came down the pathway. 
210 Then, upon one knee uprising, 

Hiawatha aimed an arrow; 

Scarce a twig moved with his motion, 

Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, 

But the wary roebuck started, 
215 Stamped with all his hoofs together. 

Listened with one foot uplifted, 

Leaped as if to meet the arrow, 

Ah! the singing, fatal arrow; 

Like a wasp it buzzed and stung himl 
220 Dead he lay there in the forest, 

By the ford across the river; 

Beat his timid heart no longer, 

But the heart of Hiawatha 

Throbbed and shouted and exulted, 
225 As he bore the red deer homeward. 

And lagoo and Nokomis 

Hailed his coming with applauses. 
From the red deer's hide Nokomis 

Made a cloak for Hiawatha, 
230 From the red deer's flesh Nokomis 

Made a banquet in his honor. 

All the village came and feasted, 

All the guests praised Hiawatha, 

Called him Strong-Heart, Soan-ge-tahal 
235 Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-tayseel 



138 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

IV 

HIAWATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS 

Out of childhood into manhood 

Now had grown my Hiawatha, 

Skilled in all the craft of hunters, 

Learned in all the lore of old men, 
5 In all youthful sports and pastimes, 

In all manly arts and labors. 
Swift of foot was Hiawatha; 

He could shoot an arrow from him, 

And run forward with such fleetness, 
10 That the arrow fell behind him! 

Strong of arm was Hiawatha; 

He could shoot ten arrows upward, 

Shoot them with such strength and swiftness, 

That the tenth had left the bow-string 
15 Ere the first to earth had fallen! 

He had mittens, Minjekahwun, 

Magic mittens made of deer-skin; 

When upon his hands he wore them, 

He could smite the rocks asunder, 
20 He could grind them into powder. 

He had moccasins enchanted, 

Magic moccasins of deer-skin; 

When he bound them round his ankles, 

When upon his feet he tied them, 
25 At each stride a mile he measured! 

Much he questioned old Nokomis 

Of his father Mudjekeewis; 

Learned from her the fatal secret 

Of the beauty of his mother, 
30 Of the falsehood of his father; 

And his heart was hot within him. 

Like a living coal his heart was 
Then he said to old Nokomis, 

"I will go to Mudjekeewis, 
35 See how fares it with my father, 

At the doorways of the West- Wind, 

At the portals of the Sunset 1 " 
From his lodge went Hiawatha, 



The Song of Hiawatha 13£ 

Dressed for travel, armed for hunting; 

Dressed in deer-skin shirt and leggings, 

Richly wrought with quills and wampum; 

On his head his eagle-feathers, 

Round his waist his belt of wampum, 

In his hand his bow of ash-wood. 

Strung with sinews of the reindeer; 

In his quiver oaken arrows. 

Tipped with jasper, winged with feathers; 

With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 

With his moccasins enchanted. 

Warning said the old Nokomis, 
"Go not forth, O Hiawatha! 
To the kingdom of the West- Wind, 
To the realms of Mudjekeewis, 
Lest he harm you with his magic, 
Lest he kill you with his cunning! " 

But the fearless Hiawatha 
Heeded not her woman's warning; 
Forth he strode into the forest. 
At each stride a mile he measured; 
Lurid seemed the sky above him, 
Lurid seemed the earth beneath him, 
Hot and close the air around him, 
Filled with smoke and fiery vapors, 
As of burning woods and prairies, 
For his heart was hot within him, 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

So he journeyed westward, westward, 
Left the fleetest deer behind him. 
Left the antelope and bison; 
Crossed the rushing Esconaba, 
Crossed the mighty Mississippi, 
Passed the Mountains of the Prairie, 
Passed the land of Crows and Foxes, 
Passed the dwellings of the Blackfeet, 
Came unto the Rocky Mountains, 
To the kingdom of the West-Wind, 
Where upon the gusty summits 
Sat the ancient Mudjekeewis, 
Ruler of the winds of heaven. 

Filled with awe was Hiawatha 



140 Narrative Poems of Long fellow 

At the aspect of his father. 
On the air about him wildly 
Tossed and streamed his cloudy tresses, 
Gleamed like drifting snow his tresses, 
85 Glared like Ishkoodah, the comet, 

Like the star with fiery tresses. 

Filed with joy was Mudjekeewis 
When he looked on Hiawatha, 
Saw his youth rise up before him 
90 In the face of Hiawatha, 

Saw the beauty of Wenonah 
From the grave rise up before him. 
"Welcome!" said he, "Hiawatha, 
To the kingdom of the West- Wind! 
95 Long have I been waiting for you! 

Youth is lovely, age is lonely, 
Youth is fiery, age is frosty; 
You bring back the days departed, 
You bring back my youth of passion, 

100 And the beautiful Wenonah! " 

Many days they talked together, 
Questioned, listened, waited, answered; 
Much the mighty Mudjekeewis 
Boasted of his ancient prowess, 

1 05 Of his perilous adventures, 

His indomitable courage, 
His invulnerable body. 

Patiently sat Hiawatha, 
Listening to his father's boasting; 

110 With a smile he sat and listened. 

Uttered neither threat nor menace, 
Neither word nor look betrayed him. 
But his heart was hot within him, 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

115 Then he said, "O Mudjekeewis, 

Is there nothing that can harm you? 
Nothing that you are afraid of?" 
And the mighty Mudjekeewis, 
Grand and gracious in his boasting, 

120 Answered, saying, "There is nothing. 

Nothing but the black rock yonder. 
Nothing but the fatal Wawbeek! " 



The Song of Hiawatha 141 

And he looked at Hiawatha 

With a wise look and benignant, 
125 With a countenance paternal, 

Looked with pride upon the beauty 

Of his tall and graceful figure, 

Saying, "O my Hiawatha! 

Is there anything can harm you? 
130 Anything you are afraid of?'' 

But the wary Hiawatha 

Paused awhile, as if uncertain, 

Held his peace, as if resolving. 

And then answe red, '' There is nothing, 
135 Nothing but the bulrush yonder, 

Nothing but the great Apukwa! " 
And as Mudjekeewis, rising. 

Stretched his hand to pluck the bulrush, 

Hiawatha cried in terror, 
140 Cried in well-dissembled terror, 

"Kago! kago! do not touch it! " 

"Ah, kaween! " said Mudjekeewis, 

"No indeed, I will not touch it! " 
Then they talked of other matters; 
145 First of Hiawatha's brothers, 

First of Wabun, of the East- Wind, 

Of the South- Wind, Shawondasee, 

Of the North, Kabibonokka; 

Then of Hiawatha's mother, 
130 Of the beautiful Wenonah, 

Of her birth upon the meadow, 

Of her death, as old Nokomis 

Had remembered and related. 
And he cried, " O Mudjekeewis, 
155 It was you who killed Wenonah, 

Took her young life and her beauty. 

Broke the Lily of the Prairie, 

Trampled it beneath your footsteps. 

You confess it! you confess it! " 
160 And the mighty Mudjekeewis 

Tossed upon the wind his tresses, 

Bowed his hoary head in anguish, 

With a silent nod assented. 
Then up started Hiawatha, 



142 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

165 And with threatening look and gesture 

Laid his hand upon the black rock, 
On the fatal Wawbeek laid it, 
With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 
Rent the jutting crag asunder, 

1/0 Smote and crushed it into fragments, 

Hurled them madly at his father, 
The remorseful Mudjekeewis, 
For his heart was hot within him, 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

175 But the ruler of the West- Wind 

Blew the fragments backward from him, 
With the breathing of his nostrils, 
With the tempest of his anger, 
Blew 'them back at his assailant; 

180 Seized the bulrush, the Apukwa, 

Dragged it with its roots and fibres 
From the margin of the meadow. 
From its ooze, the giant bulrush; 
Long and loud laughed Hiawatha! 

185 Then began the deadly conflict, 

Hand to hand among the mountains; 
From his eyry screamed the eagle, 
The Keneu, the great war-eagle; 
Sat upon the crags around them, 

1 90 Wheeling flapped his wings above them. 

Like a tall tree in the tempest 
Bent and lashed the giant bulrush; 
And in masses huge and heavy 
Crashing fell the fatal Wawbeek; 

195 Till the earth shook with the tumult 

And confusion of the battle. 
And the air was full of shoutings. 
And the thunder of the mountains, 
Starting, answered, "Baim-wawa!" 

200 Back retreated Mudjekeewis, 

Rushing westward o'er the mountains, 
Stumbling westward down the mountains. 
Three whole days retreated fighting. 
Still pursued by Hiawatha 

205 To the doorways of the West- Wind, 

To the portals of the Sunset, 



The Song of Hiawatha 143 

To the earth's remotest border, 

Where into the empty spaces 

Sinks the sun, as a flamingo 
210 Drops into her nest at nightfall, 

In the melancholy marshes. 

"Hold! " at length cried Mudjekeewis, 

"Hold, my son, my Hiawatha! 

'Tis impossible to kill me, 
215 For you cannot kill the immortal 

I have put you to this trial, 

But to know and prove your courage; 

Now receive the prize of valor! 

"Go back to your home and people, 
220 Live among them, toil among them, 

Cleanse the earth from all that harms it, 

Clear the fishing-grounds and rivers, 

Slay all monsters and magicians, 

All the Wendigoes, the giants, 
225 All the serpents, the Kenabeeks, 

As I slew the Mishe-Mokwa, 

Slew the Great Bear of the mountains. 

"And at last when Death draws near you> 

When the awful eyes of Pauguk 
230 ■ Glare upon you in the darkness, 

I will share my kingdom with you. 

Ruler shall you be thenceforward 

Of the North west- Wind, Keewaydin, 

Of the home- wind, the Keewaydin." 
235 Thus was fought that famous battle 

In the dreadful days of Shah-shah, 

In the days long since departed. 

In the kingdom of the West-Wind. 

Still the hunter sees its traces 
240 Scattered far o'er hill and valley; 

Sees the giant bulrush growing 

By the ponds and water-courses. 

Sees the masses of the Wawbeek 

Lying still in every valley. 
245 Homeward now went Hiawatha: 

Pleasant was the landscape round him, 

Pleasant was the air above him. 

For the bitterness of anger 



144 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Had departed wholly from him, 

250 From his brain the thought of vengeance 

From his heart the burning fever. 

Only once his pace he slackened, 
Only once he paused or halted. 
Paused to purchase heads of arrows 

255 Of the ancient Arrow-maker, 

In the land of the Dacotahs, 
Where the Falls of Minnehaha 
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees, 
Laugh and leap into the valley. 

260 There the ancient Arrow-maker 

Made his arrow-heads of sandstone, 
Arrow-heads of chalcedony, 
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper, 
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges 

265 Hard and polished, keen and costly. 

With him dwelt his dark-eyed daughter. 
Wayward as the Minnehaha, 
With her moods of shade and sunshine. 
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate, 

270 Feet as rapid as the river. 

Tresses i3owing like the water, 
And as musical a laughter; 
And he named her from the river, 
From the water-fall he named her, 

275 Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 

Was it then for heads of arrows, 
Arrow-heads of chalcedony. 
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper. 
That my Hiawatha halted 

280 In the land of the Dacotahs? 

Was it not to see the maiden, 
See the face of Laughing Water 
Peeping from behind the curtain, 
Hear the rustling of her garments, 

285 From behind the waving curtain, 

As one sees the Minnehaha 
Gleaming, glancing through the branches. 
As one hears the Laughing Water 
From behind its screen of branches? 

290 Who shall say what thoughts and visions 



The Song of Hiawatha 145 

Fill the fiery brains of young men? 
Who shall say what dreams of beauty 
Filled the heart of Hiawatha? 
All he told to old Nokomis, 
When he reached the lodge at sunset, 
Was the meeting with his father, 
Was his fight with Mudjekeewis; 
Not a word he said of arrows, 
Not a word of Laughing Water., 



HIAWATHA S FASTING 

You shall hear how Hiawatha 
Prayed and fasted in the forest, 
Not for greater skill in hunting, 
-Not for greater craft in fishing, 
5 Not for triumphs in the battle. 

And renown among the warriors, 
But for profit of the people, 
For advantage of the nations. 
First he built a lodge for fasting, 

10 Built a wigwam in the forest, 

By the shining Big-Sea- Water, 
In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time, 
In the Moon of Leaves he built it. 
And, with dreams and visions many, 

15 Seven whole days and nights he fasted. 

On the first day of his fasting 
Through the leafy woods he wandered; 
Saw the deer start from the thicket. 
Saw the rabbit in his burrow, 

20 Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming 

Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Rattling in his hoard of acorns. 
Saw the pigeon, the Omeme, 
Building nests among the pine-trees, 

25 And in flocks the wild goose, Wawa, 

Flying to the fen-lands northward, 
Whirring, wailing far above him. 



146 Narrative Poems of Long fellow 

"Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, 
"Must our lives depend on these things?" 

30 On the next day of his fasting 

By the river's brink he wandered, 
Through the Muskoday, the meadow, 
Saw the wild rice, Mahnomonee, 
Saw the bhieberry, Meenahga, 

35 And the strawberry, Odahmin, 

And the gooseberry, Shahbomin, 
And the grape-vine, the Bemahgut, 
Trailing o'er the alder-branches, 
Filling all the air with fragrance! 

40 "Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, 

"Must our lives depend on these things?" 

On the third day of his fasting 
By the lake he sat and pondered. 
By the still, transparent water; 

45 Saw the sturgeon, Nahma, leaping. 

Scattering drops like beads of wampum, 
Saw the yellow perch, the Sahwa 
Like a sunbeam in the water. 
Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, 

50 And the herring, Okahahwis, 

And the Shawgashee, the craw-fish! 
"Master of Life! " he cried, desponding, 
"Must our lives depend on these things?" 
On the fourth day of his fasting 

55 In his lodge he lay exhausted; 

From his couch of leaves and branches 
Gazing with half-open eyelids. 
Full of shadowy dreams and visions. 
On the dizzy, swimming landscape, 

60 On the gleaming of the water, 

On the splendor of the sunset. 

And he saw a youth approaching. 
Dressed in garments green and yellow, 
Coming through the purple twilight, 

65 Through the splendor of the sunset; 

Plumes of green bent o'er his forehead, 
And his hair was soft and golden. 
Standing at the open doorway, 
Long he looked at Hiawatha, 



The Song of Hiawatha 147 

70 Looked with pity and compassion 

On his wasted form and features, 

And, in accents hke the sighing 

Of the South- Wind in the tree-tops, 

Said he, ''O my Hiawatha! 
75 All your prayers are heard in heaven. 

For you pray not like the others, 

Not for greater skill in hunting, 

Not for greater craft in fishing, 

Not for triiunph in the battle, 
80 Nor renown among the warriors, 

But for profit of the people, 

For advantage of the nations. 

" From the Master of Life descending, 

I, the friend of man, Mondamin, 
85 Come to warn you and instruct you. 

How by struggle and by labor 

You shall gain what you have prayed for. 

Rise up from your bed of branches. 

Rise, O youth, and wrestle with me! " 
90 Faint with famine, Hiawatha 

Started from his bed of branches. 

From the twilight of his wigwam 

Forth into the flush of sunset 

Came, and wrestled with Mondamin; 
95 At his touch he felt new courage 

Throbbing in his brain and bosom, 

Felt new life and hope and vigor 

Run through every nerve and fibre. 
So they wrestled there together 
100 In the glory of the sunset. 

And the more they strove and struggled, 

Stronger still grew Hiawatha; 

Till the darkness fell around them, 

And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
1 05 From her nest among the pine-trees, 

Gave a cry of lamentation, 

Gave a scream of pain and famine. 
" 'T is enough! " then said Mondamin, 

Smiling upon Hiawatha, 
no "But to-morrow, when the sun sets, 

I will come again to try you." 



148 Narrative Poenifi of Longfellow 

And he vanished, and was seen not; ■ 

Whether sinking as the rain sinks, ;i 

Whether rising as the mists rise, | 

115 Hiawatha saw not, knew not, | 

Only saw that he had vanished, ' 

Leaving him alone and fainting, - 

With the misty lake Ix^low him, ; 

And the reeling stars above him. | 

120 On the morrow and the next day, 1 

When the sun through heaven descending, j 

Like a red and burning cinder, i 

From the hearth of the Great Spirit, i 

Fell into the western waters, li 

125 Came Mondamin for the trial, ' 

For the strife with Hiawatha; - ; 

Came as silent as the dew comes, j 

From the empty air appearing, 1 
Into empty air returning, 

130 Taking shape when earth it touches, • 

But invisible to all men 1 

In its coming and its going. t 

Thrice they wrestled there together | 

In the glory of the sunset, 1 

135 Till the darkness fell around them, j 

Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, j 

From her nest among the pine-trees, ': 

Uttered her loud cry of famine, j 

And Mondamin paused to listen. ■ 

140 Tall and beautiful he stood there, . 

In his garments green and yellow; j 
To and fro his plumes above him 
Waved and nodded with his breathing. 

And the sweat of the encounter j 

145 Stood like drops of dew upon him. J 

And he cried, "O Hiawatha! ' 

Bravely have you wrestled with me, ■ 

Thrice have wrestled stoutly with me _ \ 

And the Master of Life, who soes us, t 

150 He will give to you the triumph! " ; 

Then he smiled, and said: ''To-morrow i 
Is the last day of your conflict. 

Is the last day of your fasting. , 



The Song of Hiawatha 149 

You will conquer and o'ercome me; 
155 Make a bed for me to lie in, 

Where the rain may fall upon me, 

Where the sun may come and warm me; 

Strip these garments, green and yellow, 

Strip this nodding plumage from me, 
160 Lay me in the earth, and make it 

Soft and loose and light above me. 
"Let no hand disturb my slumber, 

Let no weed nor worm molest me, 

Let not Kahgahgee, the raven, 
165 Come to haunt me and molest me, 

Only come yourself to watch me, 

Till I wake, and start, and quicken, 

Till I leap into the sunshine." 
And thus sajang, he departed; 
170 Peacefullj^ slept Hiawatha, 

But he heard the Wawonaissa, 

Heard the whippoorwill complaining, 

Perched upon his lonely wigwam; 

Heard the rushing Sebowisha, 
175 Heard the rivulet rippling near him, 

Talking to the darksome forest; 

Heard the sighing of the branches, 

As they lifted and subsided 

At the passing of the night-wind, 
ISO Heard them, as one hears in slumber 

Far-off murmurs, dreamy whispers: 

Peacefully slept Hiawatha. 

On the morrow came Nokomis, 

On the seventh day of his fasting, 
185 Came with food for Pliawatha, 

Came imploring and bewailing, 

Lest his hunger should o'ercome him. 

Lest his fasting should be fatal. 

But he tasted not, and touched not 
190 Only said to her, "Nokomis, 

Wait until the sun is setting. 

Till the darkness falls around us, 

Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 

Crying from the desolate marshes, 
195 Tells us that the day is ended." 



150 Narrative Poems of Longjcllow \ 

Homeward weeping went Nokomis, j 

Sorrowing for her Hiawatha, j 

Fearing lest his strength should fail him ; 

Lest his fasting should be fatal. | 

200 He meanwhile sat weary waiting J 

For the coming of Mondamin, \ 
Till the shadows, pointing eastward, 

Lengthened over field and forest, ; 

Till the sun dropped from the heaven, ■ 

205 Floating on the waters westward, : 

As a red leaf in the Autumn i 

Falls and floats upon the water, • 

Falls and sinks into its bosom. \ 

And behold! the young Mondamin, ' 

210 With his soft and shining tresses, j 

With his garments green and yellow, 1 

With his long and glossy plumage, 'i 

Stood and beckoned at the doorway. .: 

And as one in slumber walking, \ 

215 Pale and haggard, but undaunted, j 

From the wigwam Hiawatha ■ 

Came and wrestled with Mondamin. \ 

Round about him spun the landscape, ; 

Sky and forest reeled together, \ 

220 And his strong heart leaped within him, i 

As the sturgeon leaps and struggles ■; 

In a net to break its meshes, | 

Like a ring of fire around him ']. 

Blazed and flared the red horizon, » -? 

225 And a hundred suns seemed looking \ 

At the combat of the wrestlers. ! 

Suddenly upon the greensward i 

All alone stood Hiawatha, | 

Panting with his wild exertion, J 

230 Palpitating with the struggle; % 

And before him, breathless, lifeless, j 

Lay the youth, with hair dishevelled, ^ 
Plumage torn, and garments tattered, - ; 

Dead he lay there in the sunset. ^^ 

235 And victorious Hiawatha % 

Made the grave as he commanded, % 

Stripped the garments from Mondamin, : ■ 






The Song uf Hiawatha 151 

Strippetl his tattered plumage from him, 

Laid him in the earth, and made it 
2 40 Soft and loose and light above him; 

And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 

From the melancholy moorlands, 

Gave a cry of lamentation. 

Gave a cry of pain and anguishi 
2 4f) Homeward then went Hiawatha 

To the lodge of old Nokomis, 

And the seven days of his fasting 

Were accomplished and completed, 

But the place was not forgotten 
250 Where he wrestled with Mondamin; 

Nor forgotten nor neglected 

Was the grave where lay Mondamin, 

Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, 

Where his scattered plumes and garments 
255 Faded in the rain and sunshine. 

Day by day did Hiawatha 

Go to wait and watch beside it; 

Kept the dark mould soft above it, 

Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 
260 Drove away, with scoffs and shoutings, 

Kahgahgee, the king of ravens. 

Till at length a small green feather 

From the earth shot slowly upward, 

Then another and another, 
265 And before the Summer ended 

Stood the maize in all its beauty. 

With its shining robes about it. 

And its long, soft, yellow tresses; 

And in rapture Hiawatha 
270 Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin! 

Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin 1 " 
Then he called to old Nokomis 

And lagoo, the great boaster, 

Showed them where the maize was growing, 
275 Told them of his wondrous vision, 

Of his wrestling and his triumph, 

Of this new gift to the nations, 

Which should be their food forever. 
And still later, when the Autumn 



152 Narrative Poems oj Lorigfellow 

280 Changed the long, green leaves to yellow, 

And the soft and juicy kernels 

Grew like wampum hard and yellow, 

Then the ripened ears he gathered, 

Stripped the withered husks from off them, ] 

285 As he once had stripped the wrestler, i 

Gave the first Feast of Mondamin, i 

And made known unto the people ; 

This new gift of the Great Spirit. j 



VI 1 

Hiawatha's friends | 

i 

Two good friends had Hiawatha, i 
Singled out from all the others. 

Bound to him in closest union, ' 

And to whom he gave the right hand i 

5 Of his heart, in joy and sorrow: ! 

Chibiabos, the musician, ' 

And the very strong man, Kwasind. ; 

Straight between them ran the pathway, ' 

Never grew the grass upon it; 

10 Singing birds, that utter falsehoods, ; 

Story-tellers, mischief-makers. 

Found no eager ear to listen, ^ 

Could not breed ill-will between them, ' 

For they kept each other's counsel, ) 

15 Spake with naked hearts together, j 

Pondering much and much contriving ; 

How the tribes of men might prosper, ; 

Most beloved by Hiawatha j 

Was the gentle Chibiabos, * 

20 He the best of all musicians, ] 

He the sweetest of all singers. " 

Beautiful and childlike was he, j 

Brave as man is, soft as woman, j 

Pliant as a wand of willow, i 

25 Stately as a deer with antlers. j 

When he sang, the village listened; i 

All the warriors gathered round him, i 



The Song of Hiawatha 153 

All the women came to hear him; 
Now he stirred their souls to passion, 
30 Now he melted them to pity. 

From the hollow reeds he fashioned 
Flutes so musical and mellow, 
That the brook, the Sebowisha, 
Ceased to murmur in the woodland, 
35 That the wood-birds ceased from singing, 

And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, 
And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
Sat upright to look and Hsten. 
40 Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, 

Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach my waves to flow in music, 
Softly as your words in singing! " 
Yes, the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 
45 Envious, said, " O Chibiabos, 

Teach me tones as wild and wayward, 
Teach me songs as full of frenzy! " 

Yes, the robin, the Opechec, 
Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, 
50 Teach me tones as sweet and tender, 

Teach me songs as full of gladness! " 

And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, 
Sobbing, said, ''O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as melancholy, 
S5 Teach me songs as full of sadness! " 

All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music: 
60 For he sang of peace and freedom. 

Sang of beauty, love, and longing; 
Sang of death, and life undying 
In tlie Island of the Blessed, 
In the kingdom of Ponemah, 
65 In the land of the Hereafter. 

Very dear to Hiawatha 
Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
He the best of all musicians, 
He the sweetest of all singers; 



154 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

70 For his gentleness he loved him, 

And the magic of his singing. 
Dear, too, unto Hiawatha 
Was the very strong man, Kwasind, 
He the strongest of all mortals, 

75 He the mightiest among many; 

For his very strength he loved him. 
For his strength allied to goodness. 

Idle in his youth was Kwasind, 
Very listless, dull, and dreamy, 

80 Never played with other children. 

Never fished and never hunted, 
Not like other children was he; 
But they saw that much he fasted, 
Much his Manito entreated, 

85 Much besought his Guardian Spirit. 

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, 
"In my work you never help mc! 
In the Summer you are roaming 
Idly in the fields and forests; 

90 In the Winter you are cowering 

O'er the firebrands in the wigwaml 
In the coldest days of Winter 
I must break the ice for fishing; 
With my nets you never help me! 

95 At the door my nets are hanging, 

Dripping, freezing with the water; 
Go and wring them, Yenadizze! 
Go and dry them in the sunshine! " 
Slowly, from the ashes, Kwasind 
100 Rose, but made no angry answer; 

From the lodge went forth in silence, 
Took the nets, that hung together. 
Dripping, freezing at the doorway; 
Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, 
105 Like a wisp of straw he broke them. 

Could not wring them without breaking. 
Such the strength was in his fingers. 
"Lazy Kwasind! " said his father, 
"In the hunt you never help me; 
110 Every bow you touch is broken. 

Snapped asunder every arrow; 



The Song of Iliaioatha 155 

Yet come with me to the forest, 

You shall bring the hunting homeward." 

Down a narrow pass they wandered, 
Where a brooklet led them onward, 
Where the trail of deer and bison 
Marked the soft mud on the margin, 
Till they found all further passage 
Shut against them, barred securely 
By the trunks of trees uprooted. 
Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, 
And forbidding further passage. 

"We must go back," said the old man, 
"O'er these logs we cannot clamber; 
Not a woodchuck could get through them, 
Not a squirrel clamber o'er them! " 
And straightway his pipe he lighted. 
And sat down to smoke and ponder. 
But before his pipe was finished, 
Lo! the path was cleared before him; 
All the trunks had Kwasind lifted. 
To the right hand, to the left hand. 
Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows, 
Hurled the cedars light as lances. 

"Lazy Kwasind! " said the young men, 
As they sported in the meadow: 
" Why stand idly looking at us, 
Leaning on the rock behind you? 
Come and wrestle with the others. 
Let us pitch the quoit together! " 

Lazy Kwasind made no answer. 
To their challenge made no answer, 
Only rose, and, slowly turning, 
Seized the huge rock in his fingers, 
Tore it from its deep foundation, 
Poised it in the air a moment. 
Pitched it sheer into the river. 
Sheer into the swift Pauwating, 
Where it still is seen in Summer. 

Once as down that foaming river, 
Down the rapids of Pauwating, 
Kwasind sailed with his companions, 
In the stream he saw a beaver. 



156 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, 

155 Struggling with the rushing currents, 

Rising, sinking in the water. 

Without speaking, without pausing, 
Kwasind leaped into the river. 
Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, 

160 Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, 

Followed him among the islands, 
Stayed so long beneath the water. 
That his terrified companions 
Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind! 

165 We shall never more see Kwasind! " 

But he reappeared triumphant. 
And upon his shining shoulders 
Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, 
Brought the King of all the Beavers. 

170 And these two, as I have told you, 

Were the friends of Hiawatha, 
Chibiabos, the musician, 
And the very strong man, Kwasind, 
Long they lived in peace together, 

175 Spake with naked hearts together, 

Pondering much and much contriving 
How the tribes of men might prosper. 



VI 

Hiawatha's sailing 

"Give me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! 
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-Tree! 
Growing by the rushing river, 
Tall and stately in the valley! 
5 la light canoe will build me. 

Build a swift Cheemaun for sailing, 
That shall float upon the river, 
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 
Like a yellow water-lily! 
10 "Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree! 

Lay aside your white-skin wrapper. 
For the summer-time is coming, 



The Song of Hiawatha 157 

And the sun is warm in heaven, 

And you need no white-skin wrapper! " 
15 Thus aloud cried Hiawatha 

In the sohtary forest, 

By the rushing Taquamenaw, 

When the birds were singing gayly. 

In the Moon of Leaves were singing, 
20 And the sun, from sleep awaking. 

Started up and said, ''Behold me! 

Geezis, the great Sun, behold me! " 
And the tree with all its branches 

Rustled in the breeze of morning, 
25 Saying, with a sigh of patience, 

"Take my cloak, O Hiawatha! " 
With his knife the tree he girdled; 

Just beneath its lowest branches, 

Just above the roots, he cut it, 
30 Till the sap came oozing outward; 

Down the trunk, from top to bottom, 

Sheer he cleft the bark asunder. 

With a wooden wedge he raised it, 

Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. 
35 "Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! 

Of your strong and pliant branches. 

My canoe to make more steady 

Make more strong and firm beneath me! " 
Through the summit of the Cedar 
40 Went a sound, a cry of horror, 

Went a murmur of resistance; 

But it whispered, bending downward, 

"Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!" 
Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, 
45 Shaped them straightway to a framework. 

Like two bows he formed and shaped them. 

Like two bended bows together. 

"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! 

Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! 
50 My canoe to bind together. 

So to bind the ends together 

That the water may not enter, 

That the river may not wet me! " 
And the Larch, with all its fibres, 



158 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 



55 Shivered in the air of morning, 

Touched his forehead with his tassels, 

Said with one long sigh of sorrow, 

"Take them all, O Hiawatha!" 
From the earth he tore the fibres, 
60 Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, 

Closely sewed the bark together, 

Bound it closely to the framework 
"Give me of your balm, O Fir-Treel 

Of your balsam and your resin, 
65 So to close the seams together 

That the water may not enter. 

That the river may not wet me! " 
And the Fir-Tree, tall and sombre, 

Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, 
70 Rattled like a shore with pebbles, 

Answered wailing, answered weeping, 

"Take my balm, O Hiawatha!" 
And he took the tears of balsam, 

Took the resin of the Fir-Trcc, 
75 Smeared therewith each seam and fissure. 

Made each crevice safe from water. 
"Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog! 

All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog! 

I will make a necklace of them, 
80 Make a girdle for my beauty. 

And two stars to deck her bosom! " 
From a hollow tree the Hedgehog 

With his sleepy eyes looked at him, 

Shot his shining quills, like arrows, 
85 Saying, with a drowsy murmur. 

Through the tangle of his whiskers, ] 

"Take my quills, O Hiawatha! " 1 

From the ground the quills he gathered, j 

All the little shining arrows, j 

90 Stained them red and blue and yellow, | 

With the juice of roots and berries; 

Into his canoe he wrought them, j 

Round its waist a shining girdle, | 

Round its bows a gleaming necklace, j 

95 On its breast two stars resplendent. \ 

Thus the Birch-Canoe was builded ; 



The Song of Hiawatha 159 

In the valley, by the river, 

In the bosom of the forest; 

And the forest's life was in it, 
100 All its mystery and its magic, 

All the lightness of the birch-tree, 

All the toughness of the cedar, 

All the larch's supple sinews; 

And it floated on the river 
105 Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 

Like a yellow water-lily. 

Paddles none had Hiawatha, 

Paddles none he had or needed, 

For his thoughts as paddles served him, 
110 And his wishes served to guide him; 

Swift or slow at will he glided, 

Veered to right or left at pleasure. 
Then he called aloud to Kwasind, 

To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, 
115 Saying, ''Help me clear this river 

Of its sunken logs and sand-bars." 
Straight into the river Kwasind 

Plunged as if he were an otter. 

Dived as if he were a beaver, 
120 Stood up to his waist in water. 

To his arm-pits in the river, 

Swam and shouted in the river. 

Tugged at sunken logs and branches. 

With his hands he scooped the sand-bars, 
125 With his feet the ooze and tangle. 

And thus sailed my Hiawatha 

Down the rushing Taquamenaw, 

Sailed through all its bends and windings. 

Sailed through all its deeps and shallows, 
130 While his friend, the strong man, Kwasind 

Swam the deeps, the shallows waded. 
Up and down the river went they, 

In and out among its islands, 

Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar, 
135 Dragged the dead trees from its channel. 

Made its passage safe and certain. 

Made a pathway for the people. 

From its springs among the mountains, 



160 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

To the waters of Paiiwating, 
140 To the bay of Taquamenaw. 



VIII ; 

Hiawatha's fishing i 

Forth upon tlic Gitche Gumee, 

On the shining Big-Sea- Water, 

With his fishing-Hne of cedar, 

Of the twisted bark of cedar, i 

5 Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma, i 

Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes, ; 

In his birch-canoe exulting, 

All alone went Hiawatha. 

Through the clear, transparent water i 

10 He could see the fishes swimming '■■ 

Far down in the depths below him; i 

See the yellow perch, the Sahwa, j 

Like a sunbeam in the water, 

See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish ; 

15 Like a spider on the bottom, • 

On the white and sandy bottom. 

At the stern sat Hiawatha, '[ 

With his fishing-line of cedar; ] 

In his plumes the breeze of morning 
20 Played as in the hemlock branches; 

On the bows, with tail erected, ] 

Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo; ; 

In his fur the breeze of morning 

Played as in the prairie grasses. 

25 On the white sand of the bottom : 

Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma, -i 

Lay the sturgeon. King of Fishes; \ 

Through his gills he breathed the water, ' 

With his fins he fanned and winnowed, i 

30 With his tail he swept the sand-floor. ) 

There he lay in all his armor; . i 

On each side a shield to guard him, '^ 

Plates of bone upon his forehead, ; 

Down his sides and back and shoulders i 



The Song of Ilicncatha 161 



35 Plates of bone with spines projecting! 

Painted was he with his war-paints, 
Stripes of yellow, red, and azure, 
Spots of brown and spots of sable; 
And he lay there on the bottom, 

40 Fanning with his (ins of purple, 

As above him Hiawatha 
In his birch-canoe came sailing. 
With his fishing-line of cedar. 

''Take my bait! " cried Hiawatha, 

45 Down into the depths beneath him, 

"Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahmal 
Come up from below the water. 
Let us see which is the stronger! " 
And he dropped his line of cedar 

50 Through the clear, transparent water, 

Waited vainly for an answer, 
Long sat waiting for an answer, 
And repeating loud and louder, 
"Take my bait, O King of Fishes!" 

55 Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma, 

Fanning slowly in the water, 
Looking up at Hiawatha, 
Listening to his call and clamor, 
His unnecessary tumult, 

60 Till he wearied of the shouting; 

And he said to the Kenozha, 
To the pike, the Maskenozha, 
" Take the bait of this rude fellow, 
Break the line of Hiawatha! " 

65 In his fingers Hiawatha 

Felt the loose line jerk and tighten; 
As he drew it in, it tugged so 
That the birch-canoe stood endwise, 
Like a birch log in the water, 

70 With the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 

Perched and frisking on the summit. 

Full of scorn was Hiawatha 
When he saw the fish rise upward, 
Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, 

75 Coming nearer, nearer to him. 

And he shouted through the water, 



162 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

"Esa! esa! shame upon you! 
You are but the pike, Kenozha, 
You are not the fish I wanted, 
80 You are not the King of Fishes! " 

Reehng downward to the bottom 
Sank the pike in great confusion, 
And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma, 
Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
85 To the bream, with scales of crimson, 

"Take the bait of this great boaster, 
Break the fine of Hiawatha! " 

Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming. 
Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
90 Seized the line of Hiawatha, 

Swung with all his weight upon it. 
Made a whirlpool in the water, 
Whirled the birch-canoe in circles, 
Round and round in gurgling eddies, 
95 Till the circles in the water 

Reached the far-off sandy beaches, 
Till the water-flags and rushes 
Nodded on the distant margins. 
But when Hiawatha saw him 
100 Slowly rising through the water, 

Lifting up his disk refulgent. 
Loud he shouted in derision, 
"Esa! esa! shame upon you! 
You are Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
1 05 You are not the fish I wanted. 

You are not the King of Fishes! " 

Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming, 
Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish. 
And again the sturgeon, Nahma, 
110 Heard the shout of Hiawatha, 

Heard his challenge of defiance. 
The unnecessary tumult. 
Ringing far across the water. 

From the white sand of the bottom 
115 Up he rose with angry gesture. 

Quivering in each nerve and filjre. 
Clashing all his plates of armor, 
Gleaming bright with all his war-paint; 



The Song of Hiawatha 163 

In his wrath he darted upward, 
120 Flashing leaped into the sunshine, 

Opened his great jaws, and swallowed 

Both canoe and Hiawatha. 

Down into that darksome cavern 

Plunged the headlong Hiawatha, 
125 As a log on some black river 

Shoots and plunges down the rapids, 

Found himself in utter darkness. 

Groped about in helpless wonder, 

Till he felt a great heart beating, 
130 Throbbing in that utter darkness. 

And he smote it in his anger. 

With his fist, the heart of Nahma, 

Felt the mighty King of Fishes 

Shudder through each nerve and fibre, 
135 Heard the water gurgle round him 

As he leaped and staggered through it, 

Sick at heart, and faint and weary. 
Crosswise then did Hiawatha 

Drag his birch-canoe for safety, 
140 Lest from out the jaws of Nahma, 

In the turmoil and confusion. 

Forth he might be hurled and perish. 

And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 

Frisked and chattered very gayly, 
1 45 Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha 

Till the labor was completed. 
Then said Hiawatha to him, 

"O my little friend, the squirrel. 

Bravely have you toiled to help me; 
150 Take the thanks of Hiawatha, 

And the name which now he gives you; 

For hereafter and forever 

Boys shall call you Adjidaumo, 

Tail-in-air the boys shall call you! " 
155 And again the sturgeon, Nahma, 

Gasped and quivered in the water. 

Then was still, and drifted landward 

Till he grated on the pebbles, 

Till the listening Hiawatha 
160 Heard him grate upon the margin, 



164 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Felt him strand upon the pebbles, 
Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes, 
Lay there dead upon the margin. 
Then he heard a clang and flapping, 

165 As of many wings assembling, 
Heard a screaming and confusion, 
As of birds of prey contending. 
Saw a gleam of light above him, 
Shining through the ribs of Nahma, 

170 Saw the ghttering eyes of sea-gulls. 

Of Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, peering. 
Gazing at him through the opening, 
Heard them saying to each other, 
'"T is our brother, Hiawatha! " 

175 And he shouted from below them, 

Cried exulting from the caverns; 
"O ye sea-gulls! O my brothers! 
I have slain the sturgeon, Nahma; 
Make the rifts a little larger, 

180 With your claws the openings widen, 

Set me free from this dark prison, 
And henceforward and forever 
Men shall speak of your achievements. 
Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, 

185 Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers! " 

And the wild and clamorous sea-gulls 
Toiled with beak and claws together. 
Made the rifts and openings wider 
In the mighty ribs of Nahma, 

190 And from peril and from prison. 

From the body of the sturgeon. 
From the peril of the water. 
They released my Hiawatha. 

He was standing near his wigwam 

195 On the margin of the water. 

And he called to old Nokomis, 
Called and beckoned to Nokomis, 
Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma, 
Lying lifeless on the pebbles, 

200 With the sea-gulls feeding on him. 

"I have slain the Mishe-Nahma, 

Slain the King of Fishesl " said he; 



The Song of Hiawatha 165 

"Lookl the sea-gulls feed upon him, 

Yes, my friend Kayoshk, the sea-gulls 
205 Drive them not away, Nokomis, 

They have saved me from great peril 

In the body of the sturgeon; 

Wait until their meal is ended, 

Till their craws are full with feasting, 
210 Till they homeward fly, at sunset. 

To their nests among the marshes; 

Then bring all your pots and kettles. 

And make oil for us in AVinter." 
And she waited till the sun set, 
215 Till the pallid moon, the night-sun, 

Rose above the tranquil water. 

Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls. 

From their banquet rose with clamor. 

And across the fiery sunset 
220 Winged their way to far-off islands. 

To their nests among the rushes. 
To his sleep went Hiawatha, 

And Nokomis to her labor. 

Toiling patient in the moonlight, 
225 Till the sun and moon changed places. 

Till the sky was red with sunrise, 

And Kayoshk, the hungry sea-gulls, 

Came back from the reedy islands, 

Clamorous for their morning banquet. 
230 Three whole days and nights alternate 

Old Nokomis and the sea-gulls 

Stripped the oily flesh of Nahma, 

Till the waves washed through the rib-bones 

Till the sea-gulls came no longer, 
235 And upon the sands lay nothing 

But the skeleton of Nahma. 

IX 

HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL-FEATHER 

On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
Of the shining Big-Sea-Water, 
Stood Nokomis, the old woman. 



166 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ 

\ 

Pointing with her finger westward, \ 

5 O'er the water pointing westward, I 

To the purple clouds of sunset. i 

Fiercely the red sun descending \ 

Burned his way along the heavens, '"i 

Set the sky on fire behind him, 1 

10 As war-parties, when retreating, ! 

Burn the prairies on their war-trail; ' 

And the moon, the Night-Sun, eastward, 1 

Suddenly starting from his ambush, ; 

Followed fast those bloody footprints, ^ 

15 Followed in that fiery war-trail, i 

With its glare upon his features. -| 

And Nokomis, the old woman, ] 

Pointing with her finger westward, \ 

Spake these words to Hiawatha: ' 

20 " Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feathery • 
Mcgissogwon, the Magician, 

Manito of Wealth and Wampum, \ 

Guarded by his fiery serpents, '\ 
Guarded by the black pitch-water. 

25 You can see his fiery serpents, ; 

The Kenabeek, the great serpents, - j 

Coiling, playing in the water; jj 

You can see the black pitch-water 'j 

Stretching far away beyond thom, \ 

30 To the purple clouds of sunset! .3 

" He it was who slew my father, J 

By his wicked wiles and cunning, 4 

When he from the moon descended, ^l 

When he came on earth to seek me. ! 

35 He, the mightiest of Magicians, « 

Sends the fever from the marshes, \ 

Sends the pestilential vapors, ! 

Sends the poisonous exhalations, \ 

Sends the white fog from the fen-lands^ '; 

40 Sends disease and death among us! •'' 

"Take your bow, O Hiawatha, j 

Take your arrows, jasper-headed, >j 

Take your war-club, Puggawaugun, i 

And your mittens, Minjekahvvun, • 

45 And your birch-canoe for sailing, \ 



The Song of Hiawatha 167 

And the oil of Mishe-Nahma, 

So to smear its sides, that swiftly 

You may pass the black pitch-water; 

Slay this merciless magician, 
50 Save the people from the fever 

That he breathes across the fen-lands. 

And avenge my father's murder! " 
Straightway then my Hiawatha 

Armed himself with all his war-gear, 
55 Launched his birch-canoe for sailing; 

With his palm its sides he patted. 

Said with glee, "Cheemaun, my darling, 

O my Birch-Canoe! leap forward, 

Where you see the fiery serpents, 
60 Where you see the black pitch-water! " 

Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting, 

And the noble Hiawatha 

Sang his war-song wild and woful, 

And above him the war-eagle, 
65 The Keneu, the great war-eagle. 

Master of all fowls with feathers. 

Screamed and hurtled through the heavens. 
Soon he reached the fiery serpents. 

The Kenabeek, the great serpents, 
70 Lying huge upon the water, 

Sparkling, rippling in the water, 

Lying coiled across the passage, 

AVith their blazing crests uplifted, 

Breathing fiery fogs and vapors, 
75 So that none could pass beyond them. 

But the fearless Hiawatha 

Cried aloud, and spake in this wise: 

" Let me pass my way, Kenabeek, 

Let me go upon my journey! " 
80 And they answered, hissing fiercely. 

With their fiery breath made answer: 

"Back, go back! O Shaugodaya! 

Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart!" 
Then the angry Hiawatha 
85 Raised his mighty bow of ash-tree. 

Seized his arrows, jasper-headed. 

Shot them fast among the serpents; 



168 Narrative Poems of Lorigjellow \ 

Every twanging of the bow-string i 

Was a war-cry and a death-cry, 

90 Every whizzing of an arrow ; 

Was a death-song of Kenabeek. ] 

Weltering in the bloody water, * 

Dead lay all the fiery serpents, j 

And among them Hiawatha \ 

95 Harmless sailed, and cried exulting: ^ j 

" Onward, O Cheemaiin, my darling! ' ' 

Onward to the black pitch-water! " i 

Then he took the oil of Nahma, i 

And the bows and sides anointed, | 

1 00 Smeared them well with oil, that swiftly \ 

He might pass the black pitch-water. ; 

All night long he sailed upon it, " 

Sailed upon that sluggish water, .' 

Covered with its mould of ages, - 

105 Black with rotting water-rushes, 

Rank with flags and leaves of lilies, i 

Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal, \ 

Lighted by the shimmering moonlight, ' 

And by will-o'-the-wisps illumined, ; 

110 Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled, \ 

In their weary night-encampments. 4 

All the air was white with moonlight, J 

All the water black with shadow, i 

And around him the Suggema, : 

115 The mosquito, sang his war-song, I 

And the fire-flies, Wah-wah-taysee, ! 

Waved their torches to mislead him; ; 

And the bull-frog, the Dahinda, i 

Thrust his head into the moonlight, j 

120 Fixed his yellow eyes upon him, j 

Sobbed and sank beneath the surface; \ 

And anon a thousand whistles, J 

Answered over all the fen-lands, j 

And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, j 

125 Far off on the reedy margin, J 

Heralded the hero's coming. | 

Westward thus fared Hiawatha, 
Toward the realm of Megissogwon, 
Toward the land of the Pearl-Feather, 



The Sojig of Hiawatha 169 

130 Till the level moon stared at him, 

In his face stared pale and haggard, 

Till the sun was hot behind him, 

Till it burned upon his shoulders, 

And before him on the upland 
1 35 He could see the Shining Wigwam 

Of the Manito of Wampum, 

Of the mightiest of Magicians. 

Then once more Cheemaun he patted. 

To his birch-canoe said, "Onward!" 
140 And it stirred in all its fibres. 

And with one great bound of triumph 

Leaped across the water-lilies, 

Leaped through tangled flags and rushes, 

And upon the beach beyond them 
145 Dry-shod landed Hiawatha. 

Straight he took his bow of ash-tree. 

On the sand one end he rested, ^ 

With his knee he pressed the middle, 

Stretched the faithful bow-string tighter, 
150 Took an arrow, jasper-headed, 

Shot it at the Shining Wigwam, 

Sent it singing as a herald. 

As a bearer of his message, 

Of his challenge loud and lofty: 
155 "Come forth from your lodge, Pearl-Feather I 

Hiawatha waits your coming! " 

Straightway from the Shining Wigwam 

Came the mighty Megissogwon, 

Tall of stature, broad of shouider, 
160 Dark and terrible in aspect, 

Clad from head to foot in wampum, 

Armed with all his warlike weapons. 

Painted like the sky of morning, 

Streaked with crimson, blue, and yellow, 
165 Crested with great eagle-feathers. 

Streaming upward, streaming outward. 
"Well, I know you, Hiawatha!" 

Cried he in a voice of thunder. 

In a tone of loud derision. 
170 "Hasten back, O Shaugodaya! 

Hasten back among the women. 



170 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heartl 
I will slay you as you stand there, 
As of old I slew her father! " 

175 But my Hiawatha answered, 

Nothing daunted, fearing nothing: 
"Big words do not smite like war-clubs, 
Boastful breath is not a bow-string, 
Taunts are net so sharp as arrows, 

180 Deeds are better things than words are, 

Actions mightier than boastings! " 

Then began the greatest battle 
That the sun had ever looked on, 

That the war-birds ever witnessed. . 1 

185 All a Summer's day it lasted, \ 

From the sunrise to the sunset; | 

For the shafts of Hiawatha ■ 

Harmless hit the shirt of wampum, ^ 

Harmless fell the blows he dealt it • 

190 V/ith his mittens, Minjekahwun, I 

Harmless fell the heavy war-club; ~ l 

It could dash the rocks asunder, -I 

But it could not break the meshes t 

Of that magic shirt of wampum. j 

1 95 Till at sunset Hiawatha, ' j 

Leaning on his bow of ash-tree, 1 
Wounded, weary, and desponding. 

With his mighty war-club broken, I 

With his mittens torn and tattered, : 

200 And three useless arrows only, j 

Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree, -. 

From whose branches trailed the mosses, ■ 

And whose trunk was coated over I 
With the Dead-man's Moccasin-leather, 

205 With the fungus white and yellow. '\ 

Suddenly from the boughs above him j 

Sang the Mama, the woodpecker; ■ 

"Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, :j| 

At the head of Megissogwon, ' 

210 Strike the tuft of hair upon it, 3 

At their roots the long black tresses; I 

There alone can he be wounded! " "i 

Winged with feathers, tipped with jasper, 1 



The Song of Hiawatha 171 

Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow, 
215 Just as Megissogwon, stooping, 

Raised a heavy stone to throw it. 

Full upon the crown it struck him, 

At the roots of his long tresses. 

And he reeled and staggered forward, 
220 Plunging like a wounded bison, 

Yes, like Pezhekce, the bison, 

When the snow is on the prairie. 
Swifter flew the second arrow. 

In the pathway of the other, 
225 Piercing deeper than the other. 

Wounding sorer than the other; 

And the knees of Megissogwon 

Shook like windy reeds beneath him, 

Bent and trembled like the rushes. 
230 But the third and latest arrow 

Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest, 

And the mighty Megissogwon 

Saw the fiery eyes of Pauguk, 

Saw the eyes of Death glare at him, 
235 Heard his voice call in the darkness; 

At the feet of Hiawatha 

Lifeless lay the great Pearl-Feather, 

Lay the mightiest of Magicians. 
Then the grateful Hiawatha 
240 Called the Mama, the woodpecker, 

From his perch among the branches 

Of the melanchol}^ pine-tree, 

And, in honor of his service. 

Stained with blood the tuft of feathers 
245 On the little head of Mama; 

Even to this day he wears it. 

Wears the tuft of crimson feathers. 

As a symbol of his service. 

Then he stripped the shirt of wampum 
250 From the back of Megissogwon, 

As a trophy of the battle. 

As a signal of his conquest. 

On the shore he left the body. 

Half on land and half in water, 
255 In the sand his feet were buried, 



172 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And his face was in the water. 

And above him wheeled and clamored 

The Keneu, the great war-eagle, 

Sailing round in narrower circles, 
260 Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer. 

From the wigv/am Hiawatha 

Bore the wealth of Megissogwon, 

All his wealth of skins and wampum, 

Furs of bison and of beaver, 
265 Furs of sable and of ermine. 

Wampum belts and strings and pouches, 

Quivers wrought with beads of wampum, 

Filled with arrows, silver-headed. 
Homeward then he sailed exulting, 
270 Homeward through the black pitch-water 

Homeward through the weltering serpents, 

With the trophies of the battle. 

With a shout and song of triumph. 
On the shore stood old Nokomis, 
275 On the shore stood Chibiabos, 

And the very strong man, Kwasind, 

Waiting for the hero's coming, 

Listening to his song of triumph. 

And the people of the village 
280 Welcomed him with songs and dances, 

Made a joyous feast and shouted: ^ 

" Honor be to Hiawatha ! 

He has slain the great Pearl-Feather, 

Slain the mightiest of Magicians, 
285 Him, who sent the fiery fever, 

Sent the white fog from the fen-lands, 

Sent disease and death among us! " 
Ever dear to Hiawatha 

Was the memory of Mama! 
290 And in token of his friendship, 

As a mark of his remembrance, 

He adorned and decked his pipe-stem 

With the crimson tuft of feathers, 

With the blood-red crest of Mama 
295 But the wealth of Megissogwon, 

All the trophies of the battle, 

He divided with his people, 

Shared it equally among them. 



D 



The Song of Hiawatha 173 



HIAWATHA S WOOING 



"As unto the bow the cord is, 

So unto the man is woman: 

Though she bends him, she obeys him, 

Though she draws him, yet she follows, 

Useless each without the other! " 

Thus the youthful Hiawatha 
Said within himself and pondered. 
Much perplexed by various feelings. 
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing, 
Dreaming still of Minnehaha, 
Of the lovely Laughing Water, 
In the land of the Dacotahs. 

"Wed a maiden of your people," 
Warning said the old Nokomis; 
"Go not eastward, go not westward, 
For a stranger, whom we know not! 
Like a fire upon the hearth-stone 
Is a neighbor's homely daughter, 
Like the starlight or the moonlight 
Is the handsomest of strangers! " 

Thus dissuading spake Nokomis, 
And my Hiawatha answered 
Only this: " Dear old Nokomis, 
Very pleasant is the firelight, 
But I like the starlight better, 
Better do I like the moonlight! " 

Gravely then said old Nokomis: 
"Bring not here an idle maiden. 
Bring not here a useless woman, 
Hands unskilful, feet unwilling; 
Bring a wife with nimble fingers, 
Heart and hand that move together, 
Feet that run on willing errands! " 

Smiling answered Hiawatha: 
"In the land of the Dacotahs 



174 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter, 

Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 

Handsomest of all the women. 

I will bring her to your wigwam, 
40 She shall run upon your errands, 

Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight, 

Be the sunlight of my people! " 

Still dissuading said Nokomis: \ 

" Bring not to my lodge a stranger ■ 

45 From the land of the Dacotahsl i 

Very fierce are the Dacotahs, \ 

Often is there war between us, ' 

There are feuds yet unforgotten, ■ "j 

Wounds that ache and still may openl " 
50 Laughing answered Hiawatha: ; 

"For that reason, if no other, 

Would I wed the fair Dacotah, 

That our tribes might be united. 

That old feuds might be forgotten, 
55 And old wounds be healed foreverl " 

Thus departed Hiawatha 

To the land of the Dacotahs, 

To the land of handsome women; 

Striding over moor and meadow, 
60 Through interminable forests. 

Through uninterrupted silence. 
With his moccasins of magic, 

At each stride a mile he measured; 

Yet the way seemed long before him, 
65 And his heart outran his footsteps; 

And he journeyed without resting, 

Till he heard the cataract's laughter. 

Heard the Falls of Minnehaha 

Calling to him through the silence. 
70 "Pleasant is the sound! " he murmured, 

"Pleasant is the voice that calls me!" 
On the outskirts of the forests, 

'Twixt the shadow and the sunshine. 

Herds of fallow deer were feeding, 
75 But they saw not Hiawatha; 

To his bow he whispered, "Fail not!" 

To his arrow whispered, "Swerve not!" 



The Song of Hiawatha 175 

Sent it singing on its errand, 

To the red heart of the roebuck; 
80 Threw the deer across his shoulder 

And sped forward without pausing. 
At the doorway of his wigwam 

Sat the ancient Arrow-maker, 

In the land of the Dacotahs, 
85 Making arrow-heads of jasper, 

Arrow-heads of chalcedony. 

At his side, in all her beauty, 

Sat the lovely Minnehaha, 

Sat his daughter, Laughing Water, 
90 Plaiting mats of flags and rushes; 

Of the past the old man's thoughts wore, 

And the maiden's of the future. 
He was thinking, as he sat there, 

Of the days when with such arrows 
95 He had struck the deer and bison. 

On the Muskoday, the meadow; 

Shot the wild goose, flying southward, 

On the wing, the clamorous Wawa; 

Thinking of the great war-parties, 
100 How they came to buy his arrows. 

Could not fight without his arrows. 

Ah, no more such noble warriors 

Could be found on earth as they were; 

Now the men were all like women, 
105 Only used their tongues for weaponsi 

She was thinking of a hunter, 

From another tribe and country. 

Young and tall and very handsome. 

Who one morning, in the Spring-time, 
110 Came to buy her father's arrows, 

Sat and rested in the wigwam. 

Lingered long about the doorway. 

Looking back as he departed. 

She had heard her father praise him, 
115 Praise his courage and his wisdom; 

Would he come again for arrows 

To the Falls of Minnehaha? 

On the mat her hands lay idle, 

And her eyes were very dreamy. 



17G Narrative Poems of Longfeltov) 

120 Through their thoughts they heard a footstep, 

Heard a rusthng in the branches, 

And with glowing cheek and forehead, 

With the deer upon his shoulders, 

Suddenly from out the woodlands 
125 Hiawatha stood before them. 

Straight the ancient Arrow-maker 

Look up gravely from his labor, 

Laid aside the unfinished arrow, 

Bade him enter at the doorway, 
130 Saying, as he rose to meet him, 

"Hiawatha, you are welcomel" 
At the feet of Laughing Water 

Hiawatha laid his burden, 

Threw the red deer from his shoulders; 
135 And the maiden looked up at him, 

Looked up from her mat of rushes. 

Said with gentle look and accent, 

"You are welcome, Hiawatha! " 
Very spacious was the wigwam, 
140 Made of deer-skins dressed and whitened, 

With the Gods of the Dacotahs 

Drawn and painted on its curtains, 

And so tall the doorway, hardly 

Hiawatha stooped to enter. 
145 Hardly touched his eagle-feathers 

As he entered at the doorway. 

Then uprose the Laughing Water, 

From the ground fair Minnehaha 

Laid aside her mat unfinished, 
150 Brought forth food and set before them, 

Water brought them from the brooklet. 

Gave them food in earthen vessels. 

Gave them drink in bowls of basswood. 

Listened while the guest was speaking, 
155 Listened while her father answered, 

But not once her lips she opened. 

Not a single word she uttered. 
Yes, as in a dream she listened 

To the words of Hiawatha, 
ir>0 As he talked of old Nokomis, 

Who had nursed him in his childhood, 



The Song of Hiawatha 177 

As he told of his companions, 

Chibiabos, the musician, 

And the very strong man, Kwasind, 
165 And of happiness and plenty 

In the land of the Ojibways, 

In the pleasant land and peaceful. 
"After many years of warfare. 

Many years of strife and bloodshed, 
170 There is peace between the Ojibways 

And the tribe of the Dacotahs," 

Thus continued Hiawatha, 

And then added, speaking slowly, 

" That this peace may last forever, 
175 And our hands be clasped more closely, 

And our hearts be more united, 

Give me as my wife this maiden, 

Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 

Loveliest of Dacotah women! " 
1 so And the ancient Arrow-maker 

Paused a moment ere he answered. 

Smoked a little while in silence, 

Looked at Hiawatha proudly, 

Fondly looked at Laughing Water, 
185 And made answer very gravely: 

"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes; 

Let your heart speak, Minnehaha! " 
And the lovely Laughing Water 

Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, 
190 Neither willing nor reluctant. 

As she went to Hiawatha, 

Softly took the seat beside him, 

While she said, and blushed to say it, 

"I will follow you, my husband! " 
195 This was Hiawatha's wooing! 

Thus it was he won the daughter 

Of the ancient Arrow-maker, 

In the land of the Dacotahs! 
From the wigwam he departed, 
200 Leading with him Laughing Water; 

Hand in hand they went together. 

Through the woodland and the meadow. 

Left the old man standing lonely 



178 Narrative Poe7ns of Longfellow ' 

At the doorway of his wigwam, \ 

205 Heard the Falls of Minnehaha • 

Calling to them from the distance, ' ' 
Crying to them from afar off, 

"Fare thee well, O' Minnehaha! " A 

And the ancient Arrow-maker j 

210 Turned again unto his labor, j 

Sat down by his sunny doorway, i 

Murmuring to himself, and saying: | 

"Thus it is our daughters leave us, | 

Those we love, and those who love usl ] 

215 Just when they have learned to help us, i 

When we are old and lean upon them, ; 

Comes a youth with flaunting feathers, I 

With his flute of reeds, a stranger ■: 

Wanders piping through the village, j 

220 Beckons to the fairest maiden, ^ 

And she follows where he leads her, -\ 

Leaving all things for the stranger! " . -^ 

Pleasant was the journey homeward, ^ 

Through interminable forests, ^ ;: 

225 Over meadows, over mountain, 'C' 

Over river, hill, and hollow y 

Short it seemed to ELiawatha, 'tj 

Though they journeyed very slowly, ^ 

Though his pace he checked and slackened f 

230 To the steps of Laughing Water. 

Over wide and rushing rivers . ! 
In his arms he bore the maiden; 

Light he thought her as a feather, ; 

As the plume upon his head-gear; j 

235 Cleared the tangled pathway for her, ' 

Bent aside the swaying branches, j 

Made at night a lodge of branches, j 

And a bed with boughs of hemlock, i 

And a fire before the doorway 1 

240 With the dry cones of the pine-tree. \ 

All the travelling winds went with them, j 

O'er the meadows, through the forest; j] 
All the stars of night looked at them. 
Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber; 

245 From his ambush in the oak-tree 



The Song of Hiawatha 179 

Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Watched with eager eyes the lovers; 
And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
Scampered from the path before them, 
250 Peering, peeping from his burrow, 

Sat erect upon his haunches, j 

Watched with curious eyes the lovers. 

Pleasant was the journey homeward! 
AH the birds sang loud and sweetly 
255 Songs of happiness and heart's-ease; 

Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 
"Happy are you, Hiawatha, 
Having such a wife to love you! " 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
260 ''Happy are you. Laughing Water, 

Having such a noble husband! " 

From the sky the sun benignant 
Looked upon them through the branches, 
Saying to them, "O my children, 
265 Love is sunshine, hate is shadow. 

Life -s checkered shade and sunshine. 
Rule by love, O Hiawatha!" 

From the sky the moon looked at them, 
Filled the lodge with mystic splendors, 
270 Whispered to them, "O my children, 

Day is restless, night is quiet, 
Man imperious, woman feeble; 
Hal-f is mine, although I follow; 
Rule by patience, Laughing Water! " 
275 Thus it w^as they journeyed homeward; 

Thus it was that Hiawatha 
To the lodge of old Nokomis 
Brought the moonlight, starlight, fireliglit, 
Brought the sunshine ot his people, 
280 Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 

Handsomest of all the women 
In the land of the Dacotahs, 
In the land of handsome women. 



180 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

XI 

Hiawatha's wedding-feast 

You shall hear how Paii-Piik-Keewis 
How the handsome Yenadizze 
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding; 
How the gentle Chibiabos, 
5 He the sweetest of mnsicians, 

Sang his songs of love and longing; 
How lagoo, the great boaster, 
He the marvellous story-teller, 
Told his tales of strange adventure, 

10 That the feast might be more joyous, 

That the time might pass more gayly. 
And the guests be more contented. 

Sumptuous was the feast Nokomis 
Made at Hiawatha's wedding; 

15 All the bowls were made of bass-wood, 

White and polished very smoothly, 
All the spoons of horn of bison, 
Black and polished very smoothly. 
She had sent through all the village 

20 Messengers with wands of willow, 

As a sign of invitation, 
As a token of the feasting; 
And the wedding guests assembled, 
Clad in all their richest raiment, 

25 Robes of fur and belts of wampum, 

Splendid with their paint and plumage, 
Beautiful with beads and tassels. 

First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma, 
And the pike, the Maskenozha, 

30 Caught and cooked by old Nokomis: 

Then on pemican they feasted, 
Pemican and buffalo marrow, 
Haunch of deer and hump of bison, 
Yellow cakes of the Mondamin, 

35 And the wild rice of the river. 

But the gracious Hiawatha, 
And the lovely Laughing Yv^ater, 
And the careful old Nokomis, 



The Song of Hiawatha 181 

Tasted not the food before them, 
40 Only waited on the others, 

Only served their guests in silence. 
And when all the guests had finished, 

Old Nokomis, brisk and busy, 

From an ample pouch of otter, 
45 Filled the red stone pipes for smoking 

With tobacco from the South-land, 

Mixed with bark of the red willow, 

And with herbs and leaves of fragrance. 
Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
50 Dance for us your merry dances. 

Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us, 

That the feast may be more joyous. 

That the time may pass more gayly, 

And our guests be more contented! " 
55 Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

He the idle Yenadizze, 

He the merry mischief-maker, 

Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, 

Rose among the guests assembled. 
60 Skilled was he in sports and pastimes, 

In the merry dance of snow-shoes. 

In the play of quoits and ball-play; 

Skilled was he in games of hazard. 

In all games of skill and hazard, 
65 Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters, 

Kuntassoo. the Game of Plum -stones. 

Though the warriors called him Faint-heart, 

Call him coward, Shaugodaya, 

Idler, gambler, Yenadizze, 
70 Little heeded he their jesting, 

Little cared he for their insults, 

For the women and the maidens 

Loved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
He was dressed in shirt of doe-skin, 
75 White and soft, and fringed with ermine. 

All inwrought with beads of wampum; 

He was dressed in deer-skin leggings, 

Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine. 

And in moccasins of buck-skin, 
80 Thick with quills and beads embroidered. 



Ig2 Narrative Poems of LongfeUoiv 

On his head were phmies of swan's down, 
On his heels were tails of foxes, 
In one hand a fan of feathers, 
And a pipe was in the other. 

85 Barred with streaks of red and yellow, 

Streaks of blue and bright vermilion, 
Shone the face of Pavi-Puk-Keewis. 
From his forehead fell his tresses, ^ 
Smooth, and parted like a woman's, 

90 Shining bright with oil, and plaited, 

Hung with braids of scented grasses, 
As among the guests assembled. 
To the sound of flutes and singing. 
To the sound of drums and voices, 

95 Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

And began his mystic dances, 

First he danced a solemn measure, 
Very slow in step and gesture, 
In and out among the pine-trees, 

100 Through the shadows and the sunshme, 

Treading softly like a panther. 
Then more swiftly and still swifter, 
Whirling, spinning round in circles, 
Leaping'o'er the guests assembled, 

105 Eddying rovmd and round the wigwam^ 

Till the leaves went whirling with him, 
Till the dust and wind together 
Swept in eddies round about him, 
Then along the sandy margin 

110 Of the lake, the Big-Sea-Water, 

On he sped with frenzied gestures, 
Stamped" upon the sand, and tossed it 
Wildly in the air around him; 
Till the wind became a whirlwind, 

115 Till the sand was blown and sifted 

Like great snowdrifts o'er the landscape, 
Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes, 
Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo! 
Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis 

120 Danced his Beggar's Dance to please the in, 

And, returning, sat down laughing 
There among the guests assembled, 



The Song of Hiawatha 183 

Sat and fanned himself serenely 
With his fan of turkey-feathers. 
125 Then they said to Chibiabos, 

To the friend of Hiawatha, 
To the sweetest of all singers, 
To the best of all musicians, 
"Sing to us, O Chibiabos! 
130 Songs of love and songs of longing, 

That the feast may be more joyous, 
That the time may pass more gayly, 
And our guests be more contented! " 
And the gentle Chibiabos 
135 Sang in accents sweet and tender. 

Sang in tones of deep emotion, 
Songs of love and songs of longing; 
Looking still at Hiawatha, 
Looking at fair Laughing Water, 
140 Sang he softly, sang in this wise: 

''Onaway! Awake, beloved! 
Thou the wild-flower of the forest! 
Thou the wild bird of the prairie! 
Thou with eyes so soft and fawn-likel 
145 "If thou only lookest at me, 

I am happy, I am happy. 
As the lilies of the prairie, 
When they feel the dew upon them! 
" Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance 
150 Of the wild-flowers in the morning. 

As their fragrance is at evening. 
In the Moon when leaves, are falling. 
"Does not all the blood within me 
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, 
155 As the springs to meet the sunshine, 

In the Moon when nights are brightest? 

"Onaway! my heart sings to thee. 
Sings with joy when thou art near me, 
As the sighing, singing branches 
160 In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries! 

" When thou art not pleased, beloved, 
Then my heart is sad and darkened, 
As the shining river darkens. 
When the clouds drop shadows on it! 



184 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

165 "When thou smilest, my beloved, 

Then my troubled heart is brightened, 
As in sunshine gleam the ripples 
That the cold wind makes in rivers. 

"Smiles the earth, and smile the waters, 

170 Smile the cloudless skies above us, 

But I lose the way of smiling 
When thou are no longer near me! 

"I myself, myself! behold me! 
Blood of my beating heart, behold me! 

175 O awake, awake, beloved! 

Onaway! awake, beloved! " 

Thus the gentle Chibiabos 
Sang his song of love and longing; 
And lagoo, the great boaster, 

180 He the marvellous story-teller. 

He the friend of old Nokomis, 
Jealous of the sweet musician, 
Jealous of the applause they gave him, 
Saw in all the eyes around him, 

185 Saw in all their looks and gestures. 
That the wedding guests assembled 
Longed to hear his pleasant stories, 
His immeasurable falsehoods. 

Very boastful was lagoo; 
190 Never heard he an adventure 

But himself had met a greater; 

Never any deed of daring 

But himself had done a bolder; 

Never any marvellous story 
195 But himself could tell a stranger. 

Would you listen to his boasting, 

Would you only give him credence, 

No one ever shot an arrow 

Half so far and high as he had; 
200 Ever caught so many fishes. 

Ever killed so many reindeer, 

Ever trapped so many beaver! 

None could run so fast as he could- 

None could dive so deep as he could, 
205 None could swim so far as he could; 

None had made so many journeys, 



The Song of Hiawatha 185 



None had seen so many wonders, 
As this wonderful lagoo, 
As this marvellous story-teller! 
210 Thus his name became a by-word 

And a jest among the people; 
And whene'er a boastful hunter 
Praised his own address too highly, 
Or a warrior, home returning, 

215 Talked too much of his achievements. 

All his hearers cried, "lagoo! 
Here's lagoo come among us! " 

He it was who carved the cradle 
Of the httle Hiawatha, 

220 Carved its framework out of linden, 

Bound it strong with reindeer sinews 
He it was who taught him later 
How to make his bows and arrows. 
How to make the bows of ash-tree, 

225 And the arrows of the oak-tree. 

So among the guests assembled 
At my Hiawatha's wedding 
Sat lagoo, old and ugly. 
Sat the marvellous story-teller. 

230 And they said, "O good lagoo. 

Tell us now a tale of wonder. 
Tell us of some strange adventure, 
That the feast may be more joyous, 
That the time may pass more gayly, 

235 And our guests be more contented!" 

And lagoo answered straightway, 
"You shall hear a tale of wonder, 
You shall hear the strange adventures 
Of Osseo, the Magician, 

240 From the Evening Star descended." 

XII 

THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

Can it be the sun descending 
O'er the level plain of water? 
Or the Red Swan floating, flying, 
"VVounded by the magic arrow, 



186 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

5 Staining all the waves with crimson, 

With the crimson of its hfe-blood, 
Fining all the air with splendor, 
With the splendor of its plumage? 
Yes; it is the sun descending, 

10 Sinking down into the water; 

All the sky is stained with purple, 
All the water flushed with crimson! 
No; it is the Red Swan floating, 
Diving down beneath the water; 

15 To the sky its wings are lifted, 

With its blood the waves are reddenedl 

Over it the Star of Evening 
Melts and trembles through the purple, 
Hangs suspended in the twilight. 

20 No; it is a bead of wampum 

On the robes of the Great Spirit, 
As he passes through the twilight. 
Walks in silence through the heavensl 
This with joy beheld lagoo 

25 And he said in haste: "Behold it! 

See the sacred Star of Evening! 
You shall hear a tale of wonder, 
Hear the story of Osseo, 
Son of the Evening Star, Osseo! 

30 "Once, in days no more remembered, 

Ages nearer the beginning. 
When the heavens were closer to us. 
And the Gods were more familiar, 
In the North-land lived a hunter, 

35 With ten young and comely daughters. 

Tall and lithe as wands of willow; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
She the wilful and the wayward. 
She the silent, dreamy maiden, 

40 Was the fairest of the sisters. 

"All these women married warriors, 
Married brave and haughty husbands; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
Laughed and flouted all her lovers, 

45 All her young and handsome suitors, 

And then married old Osseo, 



The Song oj Hiawatha 1S7 

Old Osseo, poor and ugly, 

Broken with age and weak with coughing, 

Always coughing hke a squirrel. 
50 "Ah, but beautiful within him 

Was the spirit of Osseo, 

From the Evening Star descended, 

Star of Evening, Star of Woman, 

Star of tenderness and passion! 
55 All its fire was in his bosom, 

All its beauty in his spirit, 

All its mystery in his being, 

All its splendor in his language! 
"And her lovers, the rejected, 
60 Handsome men with belts of wampum, 

Handsome men with paint and feathers, 

Pointed at her in derision, 

Followed her with jest and laughter. 

But she said: *I care not for you, 
65 Care not for your belts of wampum, 

Care not for your paint and feathers, 

Care not for your jests and laughter; 

I am happy with Osseo! ' 

"Once, to some great feast invited, 
70 Through the damp and dusk of evening 

Walked together the ten sisters. 

Walked together with their husbands; 

Slowly followed old Osseo, 

With fair Oweenee beside him; 
75 All the others chatted gayly, 

These two only walked in silence. 
"At the western sky Osseo 

Gazed intent, as if imploring. 

Often stopped and gazed imploring 
80 At the trembling Star of Evening, 

At the tender Star of Woman; 

And they heard him murmur softly, 

^ Ah, showain nemeshin, Xosa! 

Pity, pity me, my father! ' 
85 " 'Listen! ' said the eldest sister, 

'He is praying to his father! 

What a pity that the old man 

Does not stumble in the pathway, 



188 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Does not break his neck by falling! ' 
90 And they laughed till all the forest 

Rang with their unseemly laughter. 

" On their pathway through the woodlands 

Lay an oak, by storms uprooted, 

Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree, 
95 Buried half in leaves and mosses. 

Mouldering, crumbling, huge, and hollow. 

And Osseo, when he saw it, 

Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, 

Leaped into its yawning cavern, 
100 At one end went in an old man. 

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly; 

From the other came a young man, 

Tall and straight and strong and handsome. 
"Thus Osseo was transfigured, 
105 Thus restored to youth and beauty; 

But, alas for good Osseo, 

And for Oweenee, the faithful! 

Strangely, too, was she transfigured. 

Changed into a weak old woman, 
110 With a staff she tottered onward, 

Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly! 

And the sisters and their husbands 

Laughed until the echoing forest 

Rang with their unseemly laughter. 
115 "But Osseo turned not from her, 

Walked with slower step beside her, 

Took her hand, as brown and withered 

As an oak-leaf is in Winter, 

Called her sweetheart, Nenemoosha, 
120 Soothed her with soft words of kindness, 

Till they reached the lodge of feasting, 

Till they sat down in the wigwam. 

Sacred to the Star of Evening, 

To the tender Star of Woman. I 

125 "Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming, 

At the banquet sat Osseo; ^ 

All were merry, all were happy, i 

All were joyous but Osseo. < 

Neither food nor drink he tasted, j 

130 Neither did he speak nor hsten, j 



The Song of Hiawatha 189 

But as one bewildered sat he, 

Looking dreamily and sadly, 

First at Oweenee, then upward 

At the gleaming sky above them. 
135 "Then a voice was heard, a whisper, 

Coming from the starry distance. 

Coming from the empty vastness, 

Low, and musical, and tender; 

And the voice said: *0 Osseo! 
140 O my son, my best beloved! 

Broken are the spells that bound you. 

All the charms of the magicians. 

All the magic powers of evil; 

Come to me; ascend, Osseo! 
145 "'Taste the food that stands before you: 

It is blessed and enchanted, 

It has magic virtues in it. 

It will change you to a spirit. 

All your bowls and all your kettles 
150 Shall be wood and clay no longer; 

But the bowls be changed to wampum, 

And the kettles shall be silver; 

They shall shine hke shells of scarlet, 

Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer. 
155 "'And the women shall no longer 

Bear the dreary doom of labor, 

But be changed to birds, and glisten 

With the beauty of the starlight. 

Painted with the dusky splendors 
160 Of the skies and clouds of evening! ' 

"What Osseo heard as whispers. 

What as words he comprehended. 

Was but music to the others, 

Music as of birds afar off, 
165 Of the whippoorwill afar off, 

Of the lonely Wawonaissa 

Singing in the darksome forest. 

" Then the lodge began to tremble, 

Straight began to shake and tremble, 
170 Alid they felt it rising, rising, 

Slowly through the air ascending, 

From the darkness of the tree-tops 



190 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Forth into the dewy starhght, 

Till it passed the topmost branches; 
175 And behold! the wooden dishes 

All were changed to shells of scarletl 

And behold! the earthen kettles 

All were changed to bowls of silver! 

And the roof-poles of the wigwam 
180 Were as glittering rods of silver, 

And the roof of bark upon them 

As the shining shards of beetles. 
"Then Osseo gazed around him, 

And he saw the nine fair sisters, 
185 All the sisters and their husbands, 

Changed to birds of various plumage. 

Some were jays and some were magpies. 

Others thrushes, others blackbirds; 

And they hopped, and sang, and twittered, 
190 Perked and fluttered all their feathers, 

Strutted in their shining plumage. 

And their tails like fans unfolded. 
" Only Oweenee, the youngest, 

"Was not changed, but sat in silence, 
195 Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly. 

Looking sadly at the others; 

Till Ossco, gazing upward, 

Gave another cry of anguish, 

Such a cry as he had uttered 
200 By the oak-tree in the forest. 

"Then returned her youth and beauty. 

And her soiled and tattered garments 

Were transformed to robes of ermine, 

And her staff became a feather, 
205 Yes, a shining silver feather! 

" And again the wigwam trembled, 

Swayed and rushed through airy currents, 

Through transparent cloud and vapor. 

And amid celestial splendors 
210 On the Evening Star alighted, 

As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake. 

As a leaf drops on a river, 

As the thistle-down on water. 

"Forth with cheerful words of welcome 



The Song of Hiawatha 1^1 

915 Came the father of Osseo, 

He with radiant locks of silver, 
He with eyes serene and tender. 
And he said: ' My son, Osseo, 
Hang the cage of birds you bring there, 
990 Hang the cage with rods of silver, 

And the birds with glistening feathers. 
At the doorway of my wigwam. 

" At the door he hung the bird-cage, 
And they entered in and gladly 
225 Listened to Osseo 's father, 

Ruler of the Star of Evening, 
Ashe said: 'O my Osseo! 
I have had compassion on you, 
Given you back your youth and beauty, 
230 Into birds of various plumage 

Changed your sisters and their husbands 
Changed them thus because they mocked you 
In the figure of the old man 
In that aspect sad and wrinkled, 
235 Could not see your heart of passion. 

Could not see your youth immortal; 
Only Oweenee, the faithtul, 
Saw your naked heart and loved you. 

" 'In the lodge that glimmers yonder 
In the little star that twinkles 
Through the vapors, on the lett hand 
Lives the envious Evil Spirit, 
The Wabeno, the magician. 
Who transformed you to an old man. 
Take heed lest his beams fall on you, 
For the rays he darts around him 
Are the power of his enchantment, 
Are the arrows that he uses. 

" Many years, in peace and quiet, 
250 On the peaceful Star of Evening 

Dw^elt Osseo with his father; 
Many years, in song and flutter. 
At the doorway of the wigwam, 
Hung the cage with rods ot silver, 
255 And fair Oweenee, the faithful, 

Bore a son unto Osseo, 



240 



245 



II 



192 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

With the beauty of his mother, 
With the courage of his father. 

" And the boy grew up and prospered, 
260 And Osseo, to deUght him, 

Made him little bows and arrows, 
Opened the great cage of silver, 
And let loose his aunts and uncles. 
All those birds with glossy feathers, 
265 For his little son to shoot at. 

" Round and round they wheeled and darted, 
Filled the Evening Star with music. 
With their songs of joy and freedom; 
Filled the Evening Star with splendor, 
270 With the fluttering of their plumage; 

Till the boy, the little hunter, 
Bent his bow and shot an arrow, 
Shot a swift and fatal arrow. 
And a bird, with shining feathers 
275 At his feet fell wounded sorely. 

"But, O wondrous transformation! 
'Twas no bird he saw before him, 
'Twas a beautiful young woman. 
With the arrow in her bosom! 
280 "When her blood fell on the planet, 

On the sacred Star of Evening, 
Broken was the spell of magic. 
Powerless was the strange enchantment, 
And the youth, the fearless bowman, 
285 Suddenly felt himself descending, 

Held by unseen hands, but sinking 
Downward through the empty spaces. 
Downward through the clouds and vapors, 
Till he rested on an island, 
290 On an island green and grassy, 

Yonder in the Big-Sea- Water. 

"After him he saw descending 
All the birds with shining feathers. 
Fluttering, falling, wafted downward, 
295 Like the painted leaves of Autumn; 

And the lodge with poles of silver, j 

With its roof like wings of beetles, i 

Like the shining shards of beetles, 1 



The Song of Hiawatha 193 

By the winds of heaven uplifted, 
300 Slowly sank upon the island, 

Bringing back the good Osseo, 

Bringing Oweenee, the faithful. 

''Then the birds, again transfigured, 

Reassumed the shape of mortals, 
305 Took their shape, but not their stature; 

They remained as Little People, 

Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjics, 

And on pleasant nights of Summer, 

When the Evening Star was shining, 
310 Hand in hand they danced together 

On the island's craggy headlands. 

On the sand-beach low and level. 

''Still their glittering lodge is seen there, 

On the tranquil Summer evenings, 
315 And upon the shore the fisher 

Sometimes hears their happy voices, 

Sees them dancing in the starlight!" 
When the story was completed. 

When the wondrous tale was ended, 
320 Looking round upon his listeners. 

Solemnly lagoo added: 

"There are great men, I have knov/n r,uch. 

Whom their people understand not, 

Whom they even make a jest of, 
325 Scoff and jeer at in derision. 

• From the story of Osseo 

Let us learn the fate of jesters! " 
All the wedding guests delighted 

Listened to the marvellous story, 
330 Listened laughing and applauding, 

And they whispered to each other, 
, "Does he mean himself, I wonder?^ 

And are we the aunts and uncles?" 
Then again sang Chibiabos, 
335 Sang a song of love and longing. 

In those accents sweet and tender, 

In those tones of pensive sadness. 

Sang a maiden's lamentation 

For her lover, her Algonquin. 
340 " When 1 think of my beloved. 



^'^'^ -y<'rnttiir I'ocms of Lofu/fcllow 

Ah iiic! think of my hclovod, 
^\ h(>ii my ln>;ni is iliinkin^r of him, 
() my s\V(M>(h(<;n(, my Al^oiKniin! 
"Ah iiK-! whni 1 |);ir((Ml from him 
•■^•15 Roimd^ my ii,.ck h(> huiio- ihc. WMinpii'm 

As a j)I(>(li;(>, the snow-white w;ini|>iim, 
() my sw(>('f heart, my AI,i!;on(|ii;n! 

"I will «io with yo'ii, lu> whisj.crcd, 
Ah me! to your nativ(> country; 
•i'yO Lot m(« o;o with you, lu« whispoml, 

() my sw(>(>l heart, my Al<j;on(iuin! 
"Far aAvay, away, I answered. 
Very far away, ] answ(>red, 
Ah me! is my native country, 
:ir,5 () my SAveetheart. my Al<,ron(iuin! 

"When 1 looked hack to hehold him 
W here we parted, to hehold him. 
Alter me he still was gazing, 
() my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 
•^''^' " l^y the tree he sfill was standing, 

iiy the fallen tree was standing, 
That had dropped into the water, 
() my sweetheart, my AlgoiKpnii!' 
" When I think of 'my heloved 
•■^fi.'') Ah me! think of my Ix'loved, 

When my heart is thiiddng of him, 
() my sweetheart, my Algoncpnn! "' 

Such was Hiawatha's Wedding, 
Such th<' d:inc(> of Pau-Puk-K'eewis, 
•i~0 Such the story of lagoo. 

Such the songs of ("hil.iahos; 
Thus th(> wedding hampu't ended, 
And the wedding guests deitarted', 
Leaving Hiawatha happy 
:<75 \\-ith the night and Miniiehaha. 

XIII 

BLESSING THE COUN-FIELDS 

SiNfj, O Song of Hiawatha, 

Of the hap|)y days that followed, 

III the land of the Ojihways, 



The Sony of Hiawatha 196 

In the pleasant land and peaceful! 
5 Sing the mysteries of iMondaniin, 

»Sin<i the Hlessing of llic Corn-liclds! 
Hurled was the hloody hatclict, 

liuricd was the dreadful war-eluh, 

Buried wt-re all warlike weapons, 
10 And the war-cry was forj^otten. 

There was peace among the nations; 

Unmolestetl roved the hunters, 

Built the birch-canoe for sailing. 

Caught the fish in lake and river, 
\') Shot the deer and trapped the heaver; 

Unmolested work the women, 

Made their sugar from the maple, 

CJathered wild rice in the meadows, 

Dressed the skins of deer and heaver. 
20 All around the happy village 

Stood the mai/e-fields, green and shining, 

AN'aved the green plumes of Miindamin, 

Wa\('(| his soft and sunny tresses, 

Filling all the land with plenty. 
25 'T was the women who in Springtime 

Plantenl the broad fields and fruitful, 

Buried in the earth Mondamin; 

'T was the women who in Autunm 

Strippe<l the yellow husks of harvest, 
30 Strij)j)e(l the garments from Mondamin, 

Even as Hiawatha taught them. 

Once, when all the maize was planted, 

Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful. 

Spake and said to Mimiehaha, 
35 To lu's wife, the Laughing Water: 

"You shall bless to-night the corn-fields, 

Draw a magic circle round them, 

To protect them from destruction, 

Blast of mildew, blight of insect, 
40 W'agemin, the thief of C(jrn-fields, 

Paimosaid, who steals the maize-earl 
"In the night, when all is silence, 

In \\\v night, when all is darkness. 

When the Spirit of Sleep, Xepahwin, 
4.'i Shuts the doors of all the wigwams. 



196 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

So that not an ear can hear yon, 
So that not an eye can see you, 
Rise up from your bed in silence, 
Lay aside your garments wholly, 

50 Walk around the fields you planted. 

Round the borders of the corn-fields. 
Covered by your tresses only, 
Robed with darkness as a garment. 

"Thus the fields shall be more fruitful, 

55 And the passing of your footsteps 

Draw a magic circle round them, 
So that neither blight nor mildew. 
Neither burrowing worm nor insect, 
Shall pass o'er the magic circle; 

60 Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she, 

Nor the spider, Subbekashe, 
Nor the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena, 
Nor the mighty caterpillar, 
Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin, 

65 King of all the caterpillars! " 

On the tree-tops near the corn-fields 
Sat the hungry crows and ravens, 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
With his band of black marauders. 

70 And they laughed at Hiawatha, 

Till the tree-tops shook with laughter, 

With their melancholy laughter 

At the words of Hiawatha. 

"Hear him! " said they; "hear the Wise Man! 

75 Hear the plots of Hiawatha! " 

When the noiseless night descended 
Broad and dark o'er field and forest, 
When the mournful Wawonaissa, 
Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks, 

80 And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, 

Shut the doors of all the wigwams, 
From her bed rose Laughing Water, 
Laid aside her garments wholly. 
And with darkness clothed and guarded, 

85 TTnashamed and unaffrighted, 

Walked securely round the corn-fields. 
Drew the sacred, magic circle 



The Song of Hiawatha 197 

Of her footprints round the corn-fields. 
No one but the Midnight only 
90 Saw her beauty in the darkness, 

No one but the Wawonaissa 

Heard the panting of her bosom; 

Guskewau, the darkness, wrapped her 

Closely in his sacred mantle, 
95 So that none might see her beauty. 

So that none might boast, " I saw her! " 
On the morrow, as the day dawned, 

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 

Gathered all his black marauders, 
100 Crows and blackbirds, jays and ravens, 

Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops. 

And descended fast and fearless. 

On the fields of Hiawatha, 

On the grave of the Mondamin. 
105 "We will drag Mondamin," said they, 

"From the grave where he is buried, 

Spite of all the magic circles 

Laughing Water draws around it, 

Spite of all the sacred footprints 
110 Minnehaha stamps upon itl " 

But the wary Hiawatha, 

Ever thoughtful, careful, watchful, 

Had o'erheard the scornful laughter 

When they mocked him from the tree-tops, 
115 "Kaw! " he said, "my friends the ravensl 

Kahgahgee, my King of Ravens! 

I will teach you all a lesson 

That shall not be soon forgotten! " 
He had risen before the daybreak, 
120 He had spread o'er all the corn-fields 

Snares to catch the black marauders, 

And was lying now in ambush 

In the neighboring grove of pine-trees, 

Waiting for the crows and blackbirds, 
125 Waiting for the jays and ravens. 

Soon they came with caw and clamor, 

Rush of wings and cry of voices, 

To their work of devastation. 

Settling down upon the corn-fields, 



198 Narrative Pocmfi of Longfellow 

130 Delving deep with beak and talon, 

For the body of Mondamin. 
And with all their craft and cunning, 
All their skill in wiles of warfare, 
Thoy perceived no danger near them, 

135 Till their claws became entangled, 

Till they found themselves imprisoned 
In the snares of Hiawatha. 

From his place of ambush came he, 
Striding terrible among them, 

140 And so awful was his aspect 

That the bravest quailed with terror. 
Without mercy he destroyed them 
Right and left, by tens and twenties, 
And their wretched, lifeless bodies 

145 Himg aloft on poles for scarecrows 

Round the consecrated corn-fields, 
As a signal of his vengeance, 
As a warning to marauders. 
Only Kahgahgee, the leader, 

150 Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 

He alone was spared among them 
As a hostage for his people. 
AVith his prisoner-string he bound him. 
Led him captive to his wigwam, 

155 Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark 

To the ridge-pole of his wigwam. 

"Kahgahgee my raven! " said he, 
" You the leader of the robbers. 
You the plotter of this mischief, 

100 The contriver of this outrage, 

I will keep you, I will hold you, 
As a hostage for your people. 
As a pledge of good behavior! " 
And he left him, grim and sulky, 

165 Sitting in the morning sunshine 

On the summit of the wigwam. 
Croaking fiercely his displeasure. 
Flapping his great sable pinions. 
Vainly struggling for his freedom, 

170 Vainly calling on his people! 

Summer passed, and Shawondasee 



The Song of Hiawatha 199 

Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape, 

From the South-land sent his ardors, 

Wafted kisses warm and tender; 
175 And the maize-field grew and ripened, 

Till it stood in all the splendor 

Of its garments green and yellow. 

Of its tassels and its plumage, 

And the maize-cars full and shining 
180 Gleamed from bursting sheaths of verdure. 

Then Nokomis, the old woman, 

Spake, and said to Minnehaha: 

" 'T is the Moon when leaves are falling; 

All the wild-rice has been gathered 
185 And the maize is ripe and ready; 

Let us gather in the harvest, 

Let us wrestle with Mondamin, 

Strip him of his plumes and tassels, 

Of his garment green and yellow! " 
190 And the merry Laughing Water 

Went rejoicing from the wigwam. 

With Nokomis, old and wrinkled, 

And they called the women round them, 

Called the young men and the maidens, 
195 To the harvest of the corn-fields, 

To the husking of the maize-ear. 
On the border of the forest, 

LTnderneath the fragrant pine-trees, 

Sat the old men and the warriors 
200 Smoking in the pleasant shadow. 

In uninterrupted silence 

Looked they at the gamesome labor 

Of the young men and the women; 

Listened to their noisy talking, 
205 To their la\ighter and their singing. 

Heard them chattering like the magpies, 

Heard them laughing like the blue-jays, 

Heard them singing like the robins. 
And w^hene'er some lucky maiden 
210 Found a red ear in the husking, 

Found a maize-ear red as blood is, 

"Nushka! " cried they all together, 

"Nushka! you shall have a sweetheart, 



200 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

You shall have a handsome husband! " 

215 "ITgh! " the old men all responded 

From their seats beneath the pine-trees. 

And whene'er a youth or maiden 
Found a crooked ear in husking, 
Found a maize-ear in the husking, 

220 Blighted, mildewed, or misshapen, 

Then they laughed and sang together, 
Crept and limped about the corn-fields, 
Mimicked in their gait and gestures 
Some old man, bent almost double, 

225 Singing singly or together: 

"Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields! 
Paimosaid who steals the maize-ear! " 

Till the corn-fields rang with laughter, 
Till from Hiawatha's wigwam 

230 Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 

Screamed and quivered in his anger. 
And from all the neighboring tree-tops 
Cawed and croaked the black marauders. 
"Ugh! " the old men all responded, 

235 From their seats beneath the pine-trees! 

XIV 

PICTURE-WRITING 

In those days said Hiawatha, 
"Lo! how all things fade and perishi 
From the memory of the old men 
Pass away the great traditions, 
5 The achievements of the warriors. 

The adventures of the hunters, 
All the wisdom of the Medas, 
All the craft of the Wabenos, 
All the marvellous dreams and visions 

10 Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets! 

"Great men die and are forgotten. 
Wise men speak; their words of wisdom 
Perish in the ears that hear them, 
Do not reach the generations 

X5 That, as yet unborn, are waiting 



The Song of Hiawatha 201 

In the great, mysterious darkness 

Of the speechless days that shall bel 
"On the grave-posts of our fathers 

Are no signs, no figures painted; 
20 A\ ho are in those graves we know not, 

Only know they are our fathers. 

Of what kith they are and kindred, 

From what old, ancestral Totem, 

Be it Eagle, Bear, or Beaver, 
25 They descended, this we know not, 

Only know they are our fathers. 
"Face to face we speak together, 

But we cannot speak when absent. 

Cannot send our voices from us 
30 To the friends that dwell afar off; 

Cannot send a secret message, 

But the bearer learns our secret. 

May pervert it, may betray it. 

May reveal it unto others." 
35 Thus said Hiawatha, walking, 

In the solitary forest, • 

Pondering, musing in the forest. 

On the welfare of his people. 

From his pouch he took his colors, 
40 Took his paints of different colors, 

On the smooth bark of a birch-tree 

Painted many shapes and figures. 

Wonderful and mystic figures. 

And each figure had a meaning, 
45 Each some word or thought suggested, 

Gitche Manito the Mighty, 

He, the Master of Life, was painted 

As an egg, with points projecting 

To the four winds of the heavens. 
50 Everywhere is the Great Spirit, 

Was the meaning of this symbol. 
Mitche Manito the Mighty, 

He the dreadful Spirit of Evil, 

As a serpent was depicted, 
55 As Kenabeek, the great serpent, 

Very crafty, very cunning, 

Is the creeping Spirit of Evil, 



202 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Was the meaning of this symbol. 
Life and Death he drew as circles, 

60 Life was white, but Death was darkened; 

Sun and moon and stars he painted, 
Man and beast, and fish and reptile, 
Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers. 
For the earth he drew a straight line, 

65 For the sky a bow above it; 

White the space between for daytime. 
Filled with little stars for night-time; 
On the left a point for sunrise. 
On the right a point for sunset, 

70 On the top a point for noon-tide. 

And for rain and cloudy weather 
Waving lines descending from it. 

Footprints pointing towards a wigwam 
Were a sign of invitation, 

75 Were a sign of guests assembling; 

Bloody hands with palms uplifted 
Were a symbol of destruction. 
Were a hostile sign- and symbol 
All these things did Hiawatha 

80 Show unto his wondering people. 

And interpreted their meaning. 
And he said: "Behold, your grave-posts 
Have no mark, no sign, nor symbol. 
Go and paint them all with figures; 

85 Each one with its household symbol, 

With its own ancestral Totem; 
So that those who follow after 
May distinguish them and know them." 
And they painted on the grave-posts 

90 On the graves yet unforgotten. 

Each his own ancestral Totem, 
Each the symbol of his household; 
Figures of the Bear and Reindeer, 
Of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver, 

95 Each inverted as a token 

That the owner was departed. 
That the chief who bore the symbol 
Lay beneath in dust and ashes. 
And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets, 



The Song of Hiawatha 203 

100 The Wabenos, the Magicians, 

And the Medicine-men, the Medas, 

Painted upon bark and deer-skin 

Figures for the songs they chanted, 

For each song a separate symbol, 
105 Figures mystical and awful, 

Figures strange and brightly colored; 

And each figure had its meaning. 

Each some magic song suggested. 
The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
1 10 Flashing light through all the heaven; 

The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek, 

With his bloody crest erected, 

Creeping, looking into heaven; 

In the sky the sun, that listens, 
1 15 And the moon eclipsed and dying; 

Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk, 

And the cormorant, bird of magic; 

Headless men, that walk the heavens, 

Bodies lying pierced with arrows, 
120 Bloody hands of death uplifted. 

Flags on graves, and great war-captains 

Grasping both the earth and heaven! 
Such as these the shapes they i)ainted 

On the birch-bark and the deer-skin, 
125 Songs of war and songs of hunting. 

Songs of medicine and of magic. 

All were written in these figures, 

For each figure had its meaning, 

Each its separate song recorded. 
130 Nor forgotten was the Love-Song, 

The most subtle of all medicines, 

The most potent spell of magic, 

Dangerous more than war or hunting. 

Thus the Love-Song was recorded, 
135 Symbol and interpretation. 

First a human figure standing. 

Painted in the brightest scarlet; 

'Tis the lover, the musician, 

And the meaning is, " My painting 
1 40 Makes me powerful over others." 

Then the figure seated, singing, 



204 Narrative Paems of Lo7igfellow 

Playing on a drum of magic, 

And the interpretation. "Listen! 

'T is my voice you hear, my singing." 

145 Then the same red figure seated 

In the shelter of a wigwam, 
And the meaning of the symbol, 
" I will come and sit beside you 
In the mystery of my passion! " 

150 Then two figures, man and woman, 

Standing hand in hand together, 
With their hands so clasped together 
That they seem in one united. 
And the words thus represented 

155 Are, "I see your heart within you, 

And your cheeks are red with blushes! '' 

Next the maiden on an island, 
In the centre of an island; 
And the song this shape suggested 

IGO Was, "Though you were at a distance, 

Were upon some far-off island. 
Such the spell I cast upon you. 
Such the magic power of passion, 
I could straightway draw you to me!" 

1G5 Then the figure of the maiden 

Sleeping, and the lover near her. 
Whispering to her in her slumbers. 
Saying, "Though you were far from me 
In the land of Sleep and Silence, 

170 Still the voice of love would reach you! " 

And the last of all the figures 
Was a heart within a circle, 
Drawn within a magic circle; 
And the image had this meaning: 

175 " Naked lies your heart before me, 

To your naked heart I whisper! " 

Thus it was that Hiawatha, 
In his wisdom, taught the people 
All the mysteries of painting, 

180 All the art of Picture-Writing 

On the smooth bark of the birch-tree. 
On the white skin of the reindeer, 
On the grave-posts of the village. 



The Song of Hiawatha 205 

XV 
Hiawatha's lamentation 

In those days the Evil Spirits, 

All the Manitos of mischief, 

Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom, 

And his love for Chibiabos, 
5 Jealous of their faithful friendship, 

And their noble words and actions. 

Made at length a league against them, 

To molest them and destroy them. 
Hiawatha, wise and wary, 
10 Often said to Chibiabos, 

"O my brother! do not leave me. 

Lest the Evil Spirits harm you! " 

Chibiabos, young and heedless. 

Laughing shook his coal-black tresses, 
15 Answered ever sweet and childlike, 

" Do not fear for me, O brother! 

Harm and evil come not near me! " 
Once when Peboan, the Winter, - 

Roofed with ice the Big-Sea-Water, 
20 When the snow-flakes, whirling downward, 

Hissed among the withered oak-leaves, 

Changed the pine-trees into wigwams. 

Covered all the earth with silence, — 

Armed with arrows, shod with snowshoes, 
25 Heeding not his brother's warning. 

Fearing not the Evil Spirits, 

Forth to hunt the deer with antlers 

All alone went Chibiabos. 

Right across the Big-Sea-Water 
30 Sprang with speed the deer before him. 

With the wind and snow he followed, 

O'er the treacherous ice he followed. 

Wild with all the fierce commotion 

And the rapture of the hunting. 
35 But beneath, the Evil Spirits 

Lay in ambush, waiting for him, 

Broke the treacherous ice beneath him, 

Dragged him downward to the bottom, 



206 Narrative Poem^ of Longfellow 

Buried in the sand his body. 

40 Unktahee, the god of water, 

He the god of the Dacotahs, 
Drowned him in the deep abysses 
. Of the lake of Gitche Gumee. 

From the headlands Hiawatha 

45 Sent forth such a wail of anguish, 

Such a fearful lamentation, 
That the bison paused to listen, 
And the wolves howled from the prairies, 
And the thunder in the distance 

50 Starting answered "Baim-wawa!" 

Then his face with black he painted, 
With his robe his head he covered, 
In his wigwam sat lamenting, 
Seven long weeks he sat lamenting, 

55 Uttering still this moan of sorrow: — 

"He is dead, the sweet musiciani 
He the sweetest of all singers! 
He has gone from us forever. 
He has moved a little nearer 

60 To the Master of all music. 

To the Master of all singing! 
O my brother, Chibiabos! " 

And the melancholy fir-trees 
Waved their dark green fans above him, 

65 Waved their purple cones above him, 

Sighing with him to console him, 
Mingling with his lamentation 
Their complaining, their lamenting. 
Came the Spring, and all the forest 

70 Looked in vain for Chibiabos; 

Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 

From the tree-tops sang the blue-bird, 
Sang the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 

75 "Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 

He is dead, the sweet musician! " 

From the wigwam sang the robin. 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 

80 He is dead, the sweetest singer! " 



The Song of Hiaxmtha 207 

And at night through all the forest 

Went the whippoorwill complaining, 

Wailing went the Wawonaissa, 

"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
85 He is dead, the sweet musician! 

He the sweetest of all singersl " 

Then the Medicine-men, the Medas, 

The Magicians, the Wabenos, 

And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets, 
90 Came to visit Hiawatha; 

Built a sacred lodge beside him, 

To appease him, to console him. 

Walked in silent, grave procession, 

Bearing each a pouch of healing, 
95 Skin of beaver, lynx, or otter. 

Filled with magic roots and simples, 

Filled with very potent medicines. 

When he heard their steps approaching 

Hiawatha ceased lamenting, 
100 Called no more on Chibiabos; 

Naught he questioned, naught he answered. 

But his mournful head uncovered. 

From his face the mourning colors 

Washed he slowly and in silence, 
105 Slowly and in silence followed 

Onward to the sacred wigwam. 

There a magic drink they gave him. 

Made of Nahma-wusk, the spearmint. 

And Wabeno-w^usk, the yarrow, 
110 Roots of power, and herbs of healing; 

Beat their drums and shook their rattles: 

Chanted singly and in chorus. 

Mystic songs like these, they chanted. 
"I myself, myself! behold me! 
115 'T is the great Gray Eagle talking; 

Come ye white crows, come and hear him! 

The loud-speaking thunder helps me; 

All the unseen spirits help me; 

I can hear their voices calling, 
120 All around the sky I hear them! 

I can blow you strong, my brother, 

I can heal you, Hiawatha! " 



208 , Narrative Poems of Longjellow 

"Hi-aii-ha!" replied the chorus. 

" Way-ha-way! " the mystic chorus. 
125 "Friends of mine are all the serpents! 

Hear me shake my skin of hen-hawk! 

Mahng, the white loon, I can kill him; 

I can shoot your heart and kill it! 

I can blow you strong, my brother, 
130 I can heal you, Hiawatha!" 

*'PIi-avi-ha! " replied the chorus, 

"Way-ha-way!" the mystic chorus. 
"I myself, myself! the prophet! 

When I speak the wigwam trembles, 
135 Shakes the sacred Lodge with terror, 

Hands unseen begin to shake it! 

When I walk, the sky I tread on 

Bends and makes a noise beneath me. 

I can blow you strong, my brother! 
140 Rise and speak. Oh Hiawatha! " 

''Hi-au-ha! " replied the chorus, 

"Way-ha-way!" the mystic chorus. 

Then they shook their medicine-pouches 

O'er the head of Hiawatha, 
145 Danced their medicine-dance aroimd him. 

And upstarting wild and haggard, 

Like a man from dreams awakened, 

He was healed of all his madness. 

As the clouds are swept from heaven, 
150 Straightway from his brain departed 

All his moody melancholy; 

As the ice is swept from rivers, 

Straightway from his heart departed 

All his sorrow and affliction. 
155 Then they summoned Chibiabos 

From his grave beneath the waters, 

From the sands of Gitche Gumee 

Summoned Hiawatha's brother. 

And so mighty was the magic 
160 Of that cry and invocation, 

That he heard it as he lay there 

Underneath the Big-Sea-Water; 

From the sand he rose and listened, 

Heard the music and the singing. 



The Song of Hiawatha 209 

165 Came, obedient to the summons, 

To the doorway of the wigwam. 

But to enter they forbade him. 

Through a chink a coal they gave him, 

Through the door a burning fire-brand; 
170 Ruler in the Land of Spirits, 

Ruler o'er the dead they made him, 

Telling him a fire to kindle 

For all those that died thereafter, 

Camp-fires for their night encampments 
175 On their solitary journey 

To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 

To the land of the Plereafter. 

From the village of his childhood, 

From the homes of those who knew him, 
180 Passing silent through the forest, 

Like a smoke-wreath wafted sideways, 

Slowly vanished Chibiabos! 

Where he passed, the branches moved not, 

Where he trod, the grasses bent not, 
185 And the"fallen leaves of last year 

Made no sound beneath his footsteps. 
Four whole days he journeyed onward 

Down the pathway of the dead men; 

On the dead man's strawberry feasted, 
190 Crossed the melancholy river. 

On the swinging log he crossed it, 

Came unto the Lake of Silver, 

In the Stone Canoe was carried 

To the Islands of the Blessed, 
195 To the land of ghosts and shadows. 

On that journey, moving slowly. 

Many weary spirits saw he. 

Panting under heavy burdens. 

Laden with war-clubs, bows and arrows, 
200 Robes of fur, and pots and kettles. 

And with food that friends had given 

For that solitary journey. 

"Ay! why do the living," said they, 

"Lay such heavy burdens on us! 
205 Better were it to go naked, 

Better were it to go fasting. 



210 Narrative Poems of LongjeUow 

Than to bear such heavy burdens, 

On our long and weary journey! " 
Forth then issued Hiawatha, 
210 Wandered eastward, wandered westward. 

Teaching men the use of simples 

And the antidotes for poisons, 

And the cure of all diseases. 

Thus was first made known to mortals 
215 All the mystery of Medamin, 

All the sacred art of healing. 

XVI 

PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis 
He, the handsome Yenadizze, 
Whom the people called the Storm Foolj 
Vexed the village with disturbance; 
. 5 You shall hear of all his mischief, 

And his flight from Hiawatha, 
And his wondrous transmigrations, 
And the end of his adventures. 
On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 

10 On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, 

By the shining Big-Sea-Water 
Stood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
It was he who in his frenzy 
Whirled these drifting sands together, 

15 On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, 

When, among the guests assembled, 

He so merrily and madly 

Danced at Hiawatha's wedding, 

Danced the Beggar's Dance to please them, 

20 Now, in search of new adventures, 

From his lodge went Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Came with speed into the village. 
Found the young men all assembled 
In the lodge of old lagoo, 

25 Listening to his monstrous stories, 

To his wonderful adventures. 
He was telling them the story 



The Song of Hiawatha 211 

Of Ojeeg, the Summer-Maker, 

How he made a hole in heaven, 
30 How he cHmbed up into heaven, 

And let out the Summer-weather, 

The perpetual, pleasant Summer; 

How the Otter first essayed it; 

How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger 
35 Tried in turn the great achievement, 

From the summit of the mountain 

Smote their fists against the heavens, 

Smote against the sky their foreheads,^ 

Cracked the sky, but could not break it; 
40 How the Wolverine, uprising. 

Made him ready for the encounter. 

Bent his knees down, like a squirrel, 

Drew his arms back, like a cricket. 

"Once he leaped," said old lagoo, 
45 "Once he leaped, and lo! above him 

Bent the sky, as ice in rivers 

When the waters rise beneath it; 

Twice he leaped, and lo! above him 

Cracked the sky, as ice in rivers 
50 When the freshet is at h'ghest! 

Thrice he leaped, and lo! above him 

Broke the shattered sky asunder, 

And he disappeared within it. 

And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel, 
55 With a bound went in behind him! " 

"Hark you!" shouted Pau-Fuk-KeewiSj 

As he entered at the doorway; 

"I am tired of ail this talking. 

Tired of old lagoo 's stories, 
30 Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom. 

Here is something to amuse you. 

Better than this endless talking." 
Then from out his pouch of wolfskin 

Forth he drew, with solemn manner, 
fi5 All the game of Bowl and Counters, 

Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces. 

White on one side were they painted, 

And vermilion on the other; 

Two Kenabeeks or great serpents, 



212 Narrative Poenn^ of Lo7tgfellow 

70 Two Ininewiig or wedge-men, 

One great war-club, Pugamaiigun, 
And one slender fish, the Keego, 
Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks, 
And three Sheshebwug or ducklings. 

75 All were made of bone and painted, 

All except the Ozawabeeks; 
These were brass, on one side burnished, 
And were black upon the other. 
In a wooden bowl he placed them, 

80 Shook and jostled them together. 

Threw them on the ground before him. 
Thus exclaiming and explaining: 
" Red side up are all the pieces. 
And one great Kenabeek standing 

85 On the bright side of a brass piece, 

On a burnished Ozawabeek; 
Thirteen tens and eight are counted." 

Then again he shook the pieces, 
Shook and jostled them together, 
90 Threw them on the ground before him, 

Still exclaiming and explaining: 
"White are both the great Kenabeeks, 
White the Ininewug, the wedge-man, 
Red are all the other pieces; 

95 Five tens and an eight are counted." 

Thus he taught the game of hazard, 
Thus displayed it and explained it. 
Running through its various chances, 
Various changes, various meanings. 
100 Twenty curious eyes stared at him, 

Full of eagerness stared at him. 
"Many games," said old lagoo, 
"Many games of skill and hazard 
Have I seen in different nations, 
105 Have I played in different countries. 

He who plays with old lagoo 
Must have very nimble fingers; 
Though you think yourself so skilful, 
I can beat you, Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
110 I can even give you lessons 

In your game of Bowl and Countersl " 



The Song of Hiawatha 213 

So they sat and played together, 

All the old men and the young men, 

Played for dresses, weapons, wampum, 
115 Played till midnight, played till morning, 

Played until the Yenadizze, 

Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Of their treasures had despoiled them, 

Of the best of all their dresses, 
120 Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine, 

Belts of wampum, crests of feathers, 

Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches. 

Twenty eyes glared wildly at him. 

Like the eyes of wolves glared at him. 
125 Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis: 

"In my wigwam I am lonely, 

In my wanderings and adventures 

I have need of a companion, 

Fain would have a Meshinauwa, 
130 An attendant and pipe-bearer. 

I will venture all these winnings, 

All these garments heaped about me, 

All this wampum, all these feathers, 

On a single throw will venture 
135 All against the young man yonder! " 

'T was a youth of sixteen summers, 

'T was a nephew of lagoo; 

Face-in-a-Mist, the people called him. 
As the fire burns in a pipe-head 
140 Dusky red beneath the ashes. 

So beneath his shaggy eyebrows 

Glowed the eyes of old lagoo. 

"Ugh! " he answered very fiercely; 

"Ugh! " they answered all and each one. 
145 Seized the wooden bowl the old man, 

Closely in his bony fingers 

Clutched the fatal bowl, Onagon, 

Shook it fiercely and with fury, 

Made the pieces ring together 
150 As he threw them down before him. 

Red were both the great Kenabeeks, 

Red the Ininewug, the wedge-men. 

Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings. 



214 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Black the four brass Ozawabeeks, 

155 White alone the fish, the Keego; 

Only five the pieces counted! 

Then the smiling Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Shook the bowl and threw the pieces; 
Lightly in the air he tossed them, 

160 And they fell about him scattered; 

Dark and bright the Ozawabeeks, 
Red and white the other pieces, 
And upright among the others 
One Ininewug Vv^as standing, 

165 Even as crafty Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Stood alone among the players, 
Saying, ''Five tens! mine the game is! "" 

Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely, 
Like the eyes of wolves glared at him, 

170 As he turned and left the wigwam. 

Followed by his Meshinauwa, 
By the nephew of lagoo, 
By the tall and graceful stripling, 
Bearing in his arms the winnings, 

175 Shirts of deerskin, robes of ermine. 

Belts of wampum, pipes and weapons. 
"Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Pointing with his fan of feathers, 
"To my wigwam far to eastward, 

180 On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo! " 

Hot and red with smoke and gambling 
Were the eyes of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
As he came forth to the freshness 
Of the pleasant Summer morning. 

185 All the l)irds were singing gayly, 

All the streamlets flowing swiftly, 
And the heart of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Sang with pleasure as the birds sing, 
Beat with triumph like the streamlets, 

1 90 As he wandered through the village. 

In the early gray of morning, 
With his fan of turkey-feathers, 
With his plumes and tufts of swan's down, 
Till he reached the farthest wigwam, 

195 Reached the lodge of Hiawatha. 



The Song of Hiawatha 21. 

Silent was it and deserted; 

No one met him at the doorway, 

No one came to bid him welcome; 

But the birds were singing round it, 
200 In and out and round the doorway, 

Hopping, singing, fluttering, feeding. 

And aloft upon the ridge-pole 

Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 

Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming, 
205 Flapped his wings at Pau-Puk-KeewiSo 

"All are gone! the lodge is empty! " 

Thus it was spoke Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

In his heart resolving mischief; 

"Gone is wary Hiawatha, 
210 Gone the silly Laughing Water, 

Gone Nokomis, the old woman, 

And the lodge is left unguarded!" 
By the neck he seized the raven, 

Whirled it round him like a rattle, 
215 Like a medicine-pouch he shook it. 

Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven. 

From the ridge-pole of the wigwam, 

Left its lifeless body hanging, 

As an insult to its master, 
220 As a taunt to Hiawatha. 

With a stealthy step he entered. 

Round the lodge in wild disorder 
* Threw the household things about him, 

Piled together in confusion 
2 25 Bowls of wood and earthen kettles. 

Robes of bufTalo and beaver, 

Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine, 

As an insult to Nokomis, 

As a taunt to Minnehaha. 
230 Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Whistling, singing through the forest. 

Whistling gayly to the squirrels. 

Who from hollow boughs above him 

Dropped their acorn-shells upon him, 
235 Singing gayly to the wood-birds, 

Who from out the leafy darkness 

Answered with a song as merry. 



216 Narrative Poems uf Longfellow 

Then he climbed the rocky headlands, 
Looking o'er the Gitche Gumee, 

240 Perched himself upon their summit, 

Waiting full of mirth and mischief 
The return of Hiawatha. 

Stretched upon his back he lay there; 
Far below him plashed the waters, 

245 Plashed and washed the dreamy waters; 

Far above him swam the heavens, 
Swam the dizzy, dreamy heavens; 
Round him hovered, fluttered, rustled, 
Hiawatha's mountain chickens, 

250 Flock-wise swept and wheeled about him. 

Almost brushed him with their pinions. 

And he killed them as he lay there. 
Slaughtered them by tens and twenties. 
Threw their bodies down the headland, 

255 Threw them on the beach below him. 

Till at length Kayoshk, the sea-gull, 
Perched upon a crag above them. 
Shouted: "It is Pau-Puk-KeewisI 
He is slaying us by hundreds! 

260 Send a message to our brother, 

Tidings send to Hiawathal" 



XVII 

THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

Full of wrath was Hiawatha 
When he came into the village, 
Found the people in confusion. 
Heard of all the misdemeanors, 
5 All the malice and the mischief, 

Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

Hard his breath came through his nostrils. 
Through his teeth he buzzed and muttered 
Words of anger and resentment, 
10 Hot and humming, like a hornet, 

"I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Slay this mischief-maker! " said he. 



The Song of Hiawatha 217 

"Not so long and wide the world is, 

Not so rude and rough the way is, 
15 That my wrath shall not attain him. 

That my vengeance shall not reach him! " 
Then in swift pursuit departed 

Hiawatha and the hunters 

On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
20 Through the forest, where he passed it, 

To the headlands where he rested; 

But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Only in the trampled grasses, 

In the whortleberry bushes, 
25 Found the couch where he had rested. 

Found the impress of his body. 

From the lowlands far beneath them. 

From the Muskoday, the meadow, 

Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward, 
30 Made a gesture of defiance, 

Made a gesture of derision; 

And aloud cried Hiawatha, 

From the summit of the mountain: 

"Not so long and wide the world is, 
35 Not so rude and rough the way is, 

But my wrath shall overtake you, 

And my vengeance shall attain you! " 
Over rock and over river, 

Through bush, and brake, and forest, 
40 Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis; 

Like an antelope he bounded. 

Till he came unto a streamlet 

In the middle of the forest. 

To a streamlet still and tranquil, 
45 That had overflowed its margin, 

To a dam made by the beavers, 

To a pond of quiet water, 

Where knee-deep the trees were standing, 

Where the water-lilies floated, 
50. Where the rushes waved and whispered. 

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

On the dam of trunks and branches. 

Through whose chinks the water spouted, 

O'er whose summit flowed the streamlet. 



218 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

55 FroVn the bottom rose a beaver, 

Looked with two great eyes of wonder, 
Eyes that seemed to ask a question. 
At the stranger, Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

60 O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet, 

Flowed the bright and silvery water, 
And he spake unto the beaver, 
With a smile he spake in this wise: 
"O my friend Ahmeek, the beaver, 

65 Cool and pleasant is the water; 

Let me dive into the water, 
Let me rest there in your lodges; 
Change me, too, into a beaver! " 
Cautiously replied the beaver, 

70 With reserve he thus made answer: 

" Let me first consult the others. 
Let me ask the other beavers." 
Down he sank into the water, 
Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks, 

75 Down among the leaves and branches, 

Brown and matted at the bottom. 

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Kcewis, 
O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet, 
Spouted through the chinks below him, 

80 Dashed upon the stones beneath him. 

Spread serene and calm before him. 
And the sunshine and the shadows 
Fell in flecks and gleams upon him. 
Fell in little shining patches, 

85 Through the waving, rustling branches. 

From the bottom rose the beavers, 
Silently above the surface 
Rose one head and then another, 
Till the pond seemed full of beavers, 

90 Full of black and shining faces. 

To the beavers Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Spake entreating, said in this wise: 
" Very pleasant is your dwelling, 
O my friends! and safe from danger; 

95 Can you not with all your cunning, 

All your wisdom and contrivance, 



The Sung uf Hiawatha 219 

Change me, too, into a beaver?" 

"Yes! " replied Ahmeek, the beaver, 

He the King of all the beavers, 
100 "Let yourself slide down among us, 

Down into the tranquil water." 
Down into the pond among them 

Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis; 

Black became his shirt of deer-skin, 
105 Black his moccasins and leggings, 

In a broad black tail behind him 

Spread his fox-tails and his fringes; 

He was changed into a beaver. 

"Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
140 "Make me large, and make me larger. 

Larger than the other beavers." 

"Yes," the beaver chief responded, 

"When our lodge below you enter, 

In our wigwam we will make you 
115 Ten times larger than the others." 

Thus into the clear, brown water 

Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis; 

Found the bottom covered over 

With the trunks of trees and branches, 
120 Hoards of food against the winter. 

Piles and heaps against the famine, 

Found the lodge with arching doorway, 

Leading into spacious chambers. 

Here they made him large and larger, 
125 Made him largest of the beavers. 

Ten times larger than the others. 

"You shall be our ruler," said they; 

"Chief and king of all the beavers." 
But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis 
130 Sat in state among the beavers. 

When there came a voice of warning 

From the watchman at his station 

In the water-flags and lilies, 

Saying, "Here is Hiawatha I 
135 Hiawatha with his hunters! " 

Then they heard a cry above them. 

Heard a shouting and a tramping, 

Heard a crashing and a rushing. 



220 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And the water round and o'er them 
140 Sank and sucked away in eddies, 

And they knew their dam was broken. 
On the lodge's roof the hunters 

Leaped, and broke it all asunder; 

Streamed the sunshine through the crevice, 
145 Sprang the beavers through the doorway, 

Hid themselves in deeper water. 

In the channel of the streamlet; 

But the mighty Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Could not pass beneath the doorway; 
150 He was puffed with pride and feeding, 

He was swollen like a bladder. 

Through the roof looked Hiawatha, 

Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis! 

Vain are all your craft and cunning, 
155 Vain your manifold disguises! 

Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis! " 

With their clubs they beat and bruised him, 

Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Kcewis, 

Pounded him as maize is pounded, 
160 Till his skull was crushed to pieces. 

Six tall hunters, lithe and limber, 

Bore him home on poles and branches, 

Bore the body of the beaver; 

But the ghost, the Jeebi in him, 
165 Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

And it fluttered, strove, and struggled. 

Waving hither, waving thither. 

As the curtains of a wigwam 
170 Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin, 

When the wintry wind is blowing; 

Till it drew itself together, 

Till it rose up from the body. 

Till it took the form and features 
175 Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Vanishing into the forest. 
But the wary Hiaw^atha 

Saw the figure ere it vanished, 

Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
ISO Glide into the soft blue shadow 



The Song of Hiawatha 221 

Of the pine-trees of the forest; 

Toward the squares of white beyond it, 

Toward an opening in the forest, 

Like the wind it rushed and panted, 
185 Bending all the boughs before it, 

And behind it, as the rain comes, 

Came the steps of Hiawatha. 
To a lake with many islands 

Came the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
190 Where among the water-lilies 

Pishnekuh, the brant, were sailing; 

Through the tufts of rushes floating. 

Steering through the reedy islands. 

Now their broad black beaks they lifted, 
195 Now they plunged beneath the water. 

Now they darkened in the shadow. 

Now they brightened in the sunshine. 
"Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

"Pishnekuh! my brothers! " said he, 
200 "Change me to a brant with plumage. 

With a shining neck and feathers, 

Make me large, and make me larger. 

Ten times larger than the others." 

Straightway to a brant they changed him, 
205 With two huge and dusky pinions, 

With a bosom smooth and rounded. 

W^ith a bill like two great paddles. 

Made him larger than the others. 

Ten times larger than the largest, 
210 Just as, shouting from the forest, 

On the shore stood Hiawatha. 

Up they rose with cry and clamor, 

With a whir and beat of pinions, 

Rose up from the reedy islands, 
215 From the water-flags and lilies. 

And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis: 

"In your flying, look not downward, 

Take good heed, and look not downward, 

Lest some strange mischance should happen, 
220 Lest some great mishap befall you!" 

Fast and far the}'' fled to northward, 

Fast and far through mist and sunshine, 



222 Narrative Poems of Longfellow ] 

Fed among the moors and fen-lands, 

Slept among the reeds and rushes. ! 

225 On the morrow as they journeyed, \ 

Buoyed and lifted by the South-wind, j 

Wafted onward by the South-wind, .( 

Blowing fresh and strong behind them, I 

Rose a sound of human voices, I 

230 Rose a clamor from beneath them, \ 

From the lodges of a village, ' 

From the people miles beneath them. ; 

For the people of the village : 

Saw the flock of brant with wonder, j 

235 Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-Keewis ! 

Flapping far up in the ether, j 

Broader than two doorway curtains. j 

Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting, , 

Knew the voice of Hiawatha, i 

240 Knew the outcry of lagoo, ■ i 

And, forgetful of the warning, ' \ 

Drew his neck in, and looked downward, j 
And the wind that blew behind him 
Caught his mighty fan of feathers, 

245 Sent him wheeling, whirling downward 1 

All in vain did Pau-Puk-Keewis I 

Struggle to regain his balance! j 
AVhirling round and round and downward, 
He beheld in turn the village 

250 And in turn the flock above him, i 

Saw the village coming nearer, - \ 

And the flock receding farther, ; 
Heard the voices growing louder, 
Heard the shouting and the laughter; 

255 Saw no more the flock above him, i 

Only saw the earth beneath him; i 
Dead out of the empty heaven, 
Dead among the shouting people. 

With a heavy sound and sullen, j 

260 Fell the brant with broken pinions. i 

But his soul, his ghost, his shadow, 

Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis, \ 

Took again the form and features -i 

Of the handsome Yenadizze, ; 



The Sung of Hiawatha 223 

265 And again went rushing onward, 

Followed fast by Hiawatha, 

Crying: "Not so wide the world is, 

Not so long and rough the way is, 

But my wrath shall overtake you, 
270 But my vengeance shall attain you!" 

And so near he came, so near him, 

That his hand was stretched to seize him, 

His right hand to seize and hold him, 

When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 
275 Whirled and spun about in circles, 

Fanned the air into a whirlwind. 

Danced the dust and leaves about him. 

And amid the whirling eddies 

Sprang into a hollow oak-tree, 
280 Changed himself into a serpent, 

Gliding out through root and rubbish. 
With his right hand Hiawatha 

Smote amain the hollow oak-tree, 

Rent it into shreds and splinters, 
285 Left it lying there in fragments. 

But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis, 

Once again in human figure. 

Full in sight ran on before him, 

Sped away in gust and whirlwind, 
290 On the shores of (Jitche Gumee, 

Westward by the Big-Sea- Water, 

Came unto the rocky headlands. 

To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone. 

Looking over lake and landscape. 
295 And the Old Man of the Mountain, 

He the Manito of Mountains, 

Opened wide his rocky doorways, 

Opened wide his deep abysses. 

Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter 
300 In his caverns dark and dreary. 

Bidding Pau-Pau-Keewis welcome 

To his gloomy lodge of sandstone. 
There without stood Hiawatha, 

Found the doorways closed against him, 
305 With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 

Smote great caverns in the sandstone, 



224 Narrative Poemfi of Longfellow 

Cried aloud in tones of thunder, 

"Open! I am Hiawatha!" 

But the Old Man of the Mountain, 

310 Opened not, and made no answer 

From the silent craji;s of'sandstone, 
From the gloomy rock abysses. 

Then he raised his hantls to heaven, 
Called imploring on the tempest, 

315 Called Waywassimo, the lightning, 

And the thunder, Annemeekee; 
And they came with night and darkness. 
Sweeping down the Big-Sea-Water 
From the distant Thunder Mountains; 

320 And the trembling Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Heard the footsteps of the thunder, 
Saw the red eyes of the lightning. 
Was afraid, and crouched and trembled. 
Then AVaywassimo, the lightning, 

325 Smote the doorways of the caverns. 

With his war-club smote the doorways, 
Smote the jutting crags of sandstone, 
And the thunder, Annemeekee, 
Shouted down into the caverns. 

330 Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis! " 

And the crags fell, and beneath them y 
Dead among the rocky ruins 
Lay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Lay the handsome Yenadizze, 

335 Slain in his own human figure. 

Ended were his wild adventures. 
Ended were his tricks and gambols, 
Ended all his craft and cunning, 
Ended all his mischief-making, 

340 All his gambling and his dancing. 

All his wooing of the maidens. 

Then the noble Hiawatha 
Took his soul, his ghost, his shadow. 
Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis! 

345 Never more in human figure 

Shall you search for new adventures; 
Never more with jest and laughter 
Dance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds; 



The Song of Hiawatha 225 

But above there in the heavens 
350 You shall soar and sail in circles; 

I will change you to an eagle, 

To Keneu, the great war-eagle, 

Chief of all the fowls with feathers, 

Chief of Hiawatha's chickens." 
355 And the name of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Lingers still among the people, 

Lingers still among the singers, 

And among the story-tellers; 

And in Winter, when the snow-flakes 
360 Whirl in eddies round the lodges, 

When the wind in gusty tumult 

O'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles, 

"There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Keewis; 

He is dancing through the village, 
365 He is gathering in his harvest! " 



XVIII 

THE DEATH OF KWASIND 

Far and wide among the nations 
Spread the name and fame of Kwasind; 
No man dared to strive with Kwasind, 
No man could compete with Kwasind. 
5 But the mischievous Puk-Wudjies, 

They the envious Little People, 
They the fairies and the pygmies, 
Plotted and conspired against him. 
"If this hateful Kwasind," said they, 

10 "If this great, outrageous fellow 

Goes on thus a little longer, 
Tearing everything he touches, 
Rending everything to pieces, 
Filling all the world with wonder, 

15 What becomes of the Puk-Wudjies? 

Who will care for the Puk-Wudjies? 
He will tread us down like nuishrooms, 
Drive us all into the water. 
Give our bodies to be eaten 



226 Narrative Poeins of Longfellow 

20 By the wicked Nee-ba-naw-baigs, 

By the Spirits of the water! " 
So the angry Little People 
All conspired against the Strong Man, 
All conspired to murder Kwasind, 
25 Yes, to rid the world of Kwasind, 

The audacious, overbearing, 
Heartless, haughty, dangerous Kwasind! 

Now this wondrous strength of Kwasind 
In his crown alone was seated; 
30 In his crown too was his weakness; 

There alone could he be wounded. 
Nowhere else could weapon pierce him, 
Nowhere else could weapon harm him. 
Even there the only weapon 
35 That could wound him, that could slay him, 

Was the seed-cone of the pine-tree, 
Was the blue cone of the fir-tree. 
This was Kwasind 's fatal secret, 
Known to no man among mortals; 
40 But the cunning Little IVople, 

The Puk-Wudjies, knew the secret, 
Knew the only way to kill him. 

So they gathered cones together, 
Gathered seed-cones of the pine-tree, 
45 Gathered blue cones of the fir-tree. 

In the woods by Taquamenaw, 
Brought them to the river's margin, 
Heaped them in great piles together. 
Where the red rocks from the margin 
50 Jutting overhang the river. 

There they lay in wait for Kwasind, 
The malicious Little People. 

'T was an afternoon in Summer; '' 
Very hot and still the air was, 
55 Very smooth the gliding river. 

Motionless the sleeping shadows; 
Insects glistened in the sunshine, 
Insects skated on the water. 
Filled the drowsy air with buzzing, 
60 With a far-resounding war-cry. 

Down the river came the Strong Man, 



The Song of Hiawatha 227 

In his birch-canoe came Kwasind, 

Floating slowly down the current 

Of the sluggish Taquamenaw, 
65 Very languid with the weather, 

Very sleepy with the silence 

From the overhanging branches, 

From the tassels of the birch-trees. 

Soft the Spirit of Sleep descended; 
70 By his airy hosts surrounded, 

His invisible attendants, 

Came the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin; 

Like the burnished Dush-kwo-ne-she, 

Like a dragon-fly, he hovered 
75 O'er the drowsy head of Kwasind. 

To his ear there came a murmur 

As of waves upon a sea-shore. 

As of far-off tumbling waters, 

As of winds among the pine-trees; 
SO And he felt upon his forehead 

Blows of little airy war-clubs. 

Wielded by the slumbrous legions 

Of the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, 

As of some one breathing on him. 
85 At the first blow of their war-clubs 

Fell a drowsiness on Kwasind; 

At the second blow they smote him. 

Motionless his paddle rested; 

At the third, before his vision, 
90 Reeled the landscape into darkness. 

Very sound asleep was Kwasind. 
So he floated down the river. 

Like a blind man seated upright, 

Floated down the Taquamenaw, 
95 LTnderneath the trembling birch-trees, 

Underneath the wooded headlands, 

LTnderneath the war encampment 

Of the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies. 

There they stood, all armed and waiting, 
1 00 Hurled the pine-cones down upon him. 

Struck him on his brawny shoulders. 

On his crown defenceless struck him. 

"Death to Kwasind! " was the sudden 



228 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

War-cry of the Little People. 

105 And he sideways swayed and tumbled, 

Sideways fell into the river, 
Plunged beneath the sluggish water 
Headlong, as an otter plunges; 
And the birch-canoe, abandoned, 

110 Drifted empty down the river, 

Bottom upward swerved and drifted: 
Nothing more was seen of Kwasind. 

But the memory of the Strong Man 
Lingered long among the people, 

115 And whenever through the forest 

Raged and roared the wintry tempest, 
And the branches, tossed and troubled. 
Creaked and groaned and split asimder, 
"Kwasind!" cried they; "that is Kwasind! 

120 He is gathering in his fire- wood! " 



XIX 

THE GHOSTS 

Never stoops the soaring vulture 
On his quarry in the desert. 
On the sick or wounded bison, 
But another vulture, watcli^ng 
5 From his high aerial look-out, 

Sees the downward plunge, and follows; 
And a third pursues the second, 
Coming from the invisible ether. 
First a speck, and then a vulture, 

10 Till the air is dark with pinions. 

So disasters come not singly; 
But as if they watched and waited. 
Scanning one another's motions, 
When the first descends, the others 

15 Follow, follow, gathering flock-wise 

Round their victim, sick and wounded, 
First a shadow, then a sorrow, 
Till the air is dark with anguish. 
Now, o'er all the dreary Northland, 



The Song of Hiawatha 229 

20 Mighty Peboan, the Winter, 

Breathing on the lakes and rivers, 
Into stone had changed their waters. 
From his hair he shook the snow-flakes, 
Till the plains were strewn with whiteness, 
25 One uninterrupted level. 

As if, stooping, the Creator 
With his hand had smoothed them over. 
Through the forest, wide and wailing, 
Roamed the hunter on his snow-shoes; 
30 In the village worked the women, 

Pounded maize, or dressed the deer-skin; 
And the young men played together 
On the ice the noisy ball-play, 
On the plain the dance of snow-shoes. 
35 One dark evening, after sundown, 

In her wigwam Laughing Water 
Sat with old Nokomis, waiting 
For the steps of Hiawatha 
Homeward from the hunt returning. 
40 On their faces gleamed the fire-light. 

Painting them with streaks of crimson, 
In the eyes of old Nokomis 
Glimmered like the watery moonlight, 
In the eyes of Laughing AVater 
45 Ghstened like the sun in water; 

And behind them crouched their shadows 
In the corners of the wigwam. 
And the smoke in wreaths above them 
Climbed and crowded through the smoke-flue 
50 Then the curtain of the doorway 

From without was slowly lifted; 
Brighter glowed the fire a moment, 
And a moment swerved the smoke-wreath, 
As two women entered softly, 
55 Passed the doorway uninvited, 

Without word of salutation. 
Without sign of recognition. 
Sat down in the farthest corner, 
Crouching low among the shadows. 
^0 From their aspect and their garments, 

Strangers seemed they in the village; 

, 4 



230 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 



Very pale and haggard were they, 

As they sat there sad and silent, i 

Trembling, cowering with the shadows. * 

65 Was it the wind above the smoke-flue, \ 

Muttering down into the wigwam? 3 

Was it the owl, the Koko-koho, j 

Hooting from the dismal forest? i 

Sure a voice said in the silence: I 

70 "These are corpses clad in garments, j 

These are ghosts that come to haunt you, i 

From the kingdom of Ponemah, ' 

From the land of the Hereafter! " I 

Homeward now came Hiawatha 
75 From his hunting in the forest, j 

With the snow upon his tresses, j 

And the red deer on his shoulders. 

At the feet of Laughing Water 

Down he threw his lifeless burden; 
80 Nobler, handsomer she thought him, ' 

Than when first he came to woo her. 

First threw down the deer before her, 

As a token of his wishes. 

As a promise of the future. \ 

85 Then he turned and saw the strangers, 

Cowering, crouching with the shadows; 

Said within himself, "Who are they? 

What strange guests has Minnehaha?" ] 

But he questioned not the strangers, 
90 Only spake to bid them welcome ! 

To his lodge, his food, his fireside. 

When the evening meal was ready, 1 

And the deer had been divided. 

Both the pallid guests, the strangers, 
95 Springing from among the shadows, I 

Seized upon the choicest portions, ■ ; 

Seized the white fat of the roebuck 

Set apart for Laughing Water, 

For the wife of Hiawatha; 
100 Without asking, without thanking, 

Eagerly devoured the morsels, ' 

Flitted back among the shadows 

In the corner of the wigwam. 



The Sony of Hiawatha 231 

Not a word spake Hiawatha, 
105 Not a motion made Nokomis, 

Not a gesture Laughing Water; 

Not a change came o'er their features; 

Only Minnehaha softly 

Whispered, saying, "They are famished; 
110 Let them do what best delights them; 

Let them eat, for they are famished." 
Many a daylight dawned and darkened, 

Many a night shook off the daylight 

As the pine shakes off the snow-flakes 
115 From the midnight of its branches; 

Day by day the guests unmoving 

Sat there silent in the wigwam; 

But by night, in storm or starlight, 

Forth they w^ent into the forest, 
120 Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam. 

Bringing pine-cones for the burning. 

Always sad and always silent. 
And whenever Hiawatha 

Came from fishing or from hunting, 
125 When the evening meal was ready. 

And the food had been divided, 

Gliding from their darksome corner. 

Came the pallid guests, the strangers, 

Seized upon the choicest portions 
1 30 Set aside for Laughing Water, 

And w^ithout rebuke or question 

Flitted back among the shadows. 
Never once had Hiawatha 

By a word or look reproved them; 
135 Never once had old Nokomis 

Made a gesture of impatience; 

Never once had Laughing Water 

Shown resentment at the outrage. 

All had they endured in silence, 
140 That the rights of guest and stranger, 

That the virtue of free-giving, 

By a look might not be lessened, 

By a word might not be broken. 
Once at midnight Hiawatha, 
145 Ever wakeful, ever watchful, 



232 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

In the wigwam, dimly lighted 
By the brands that still were burning, 
By the glimmering, flickering fire-light, 
Heard a sighing, oft repeated, 

150 Heard a sobbing, as of sorrow. 

From his couch rose Hiawatha, 
From his shaggy hides of bison. 
Pushed aside the deer-skin curtain, 
Saw the pallid guests, the shadows, 

155 Sitting upright on their couches, 

Weeping in the silent midnight. 

And he said: "O guests! why is it 
That your hearts are so afflicted. 
That you sob so in the midnight? 

160 Has perchance the old Nokomis, 

Has my wife, my Minnehaha, 
Wronged or grieved you by unkindness, 
Failed in hospitable duties?" 

Then the shadows ceased from weeping, 

165 Ceased from sobbing and lamenting, 

And they said, with gentle voices: 
"We are ghosts of the departed, 
Souls of those who once were with you. 
From the realms of Chibiabos 

170 Hither have we come to try you, 

Hither have we come to warn you. 

"Cries of grief and lamentation 
Reach us in the Blessed Islands; 
Cries of anguish from the living, 

175 Calling back their friends departed. 

Sadden us with useless sorrow. 
Therefore have we come to try you; 
No one knows us, no one heeds us. 
We are but a burden to you, 

180 And we see that the departed 

Have no place among the living. 
''Think of this, O Hiawatha!' 
Speak of it to all the people. 
That henceforward and forever 

185 They no more with lamentations 

Sadden the souls of the departed 
In the Islands of the Blessed. 



The Song of Hiawatha 233 

"Do not lay such heavy burdens 

In the graves of those you bury, 
1 90 Not such weight of furs and wampum, 

Not such weight of pots and kettles, 

For the spirits faint beneath them. 

Only give them food to carry, 

Only give them fire to light them. 
195 "Four days is the spirit's journey 

To the land of ghosts and shadows, 

Four its lonely night encampments; 

Four times must their fires be lighted. 

Therefore, when the dead are buried, 
200 Let a fire, as night approaches. 

Four times on the grave be kindled, 

That the soul upon its journey 

May not lack the cheerful fire-light, 

May not grope about in darkness. 
205 "Farewell, noble Hiawatha! 

We have put you to the trial. 

To the proof nave put your patience, 

By the insult of our presence. 

By the outrage of our actions, 
210 We have found you great and nobb. 

Fail not in the greater trial. 

Faint not in the harder struggle" 

When they ceased, a sudden darkness 

Fell and filled the silent wigwam, 
215 Hiawatha heard a rustle 

As of garments trailing by him, 

Heard the curtain of the doorway 

Lifted by a hand he saw not, 

Felt the cold breath of the night air 
220 For a moment saw^ the starlight; 

But he saw the ghosts no longer. 

Saw no more the wandering spirits 

From the kingdom of Ponemah, 

From the land of the Hereafter. 



234 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

'XX 

THE FAIMINE 

O THE long and dreary Winterl 
O the cold and cruel Winter! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
Froze the ice on lake and river, 
5 Ever deeper, deeper, deeper 

Fell the snow o'er all the landscape, 
Fell the covering snow, and drifted 
Through the forest, round the village 
Hardly from his buried wigwam 

10 Could the hunter force a passage; 

With his mittens and his snow-shoes 
Vainly walked he through the forest, 
Sought for bird or beast and found none, 
Saw no track of deer or rabbit, 

15 In the snow beheld no footprints, 

In the ghastly, gleaming forest 
Fell, and could not rise from weakness, 
Perished there from cold and hunger. 
O the famine and the fever! 

20 O the wasting of the famine! 

O the blasting of the fever! 
O the wailing of the children! 
O the anguish of the women! 

All the earth was sick and famished; 

25 Hungry was the air around them, 

Hungry was the sky above them, 
And the hungry stars in heaven 
Like the eyes of wolves glared at them! 
Into Hiawatha's wigwam 

30 Came two other guests as silent, 

As the ghosts were, and as gloomy. 
Waited not to be invited, 
Did not parley at the doorway, 
Sat there without word of welcome 

35 In the seat of Laughing Water; 

Looked with haggard eyes and hollow 
At the face of Laughing Water. 

And the foremost said: "Behold me! 



The Song of Hiawatha 235 

I am Famine, Bukadawin! " 
40 And the other said: "Behold mel 

I am Fever, Ahkosewin! " 
And the lovely Minnehaha 

Shuddered as they looked upon her, 

Shuddered at the words they uttered, 
45 Lay down on her bed in silence, 

Hid her face, but made no answer; 

Lay there trembling, freezing, burning 

At the looks they cast upon her. 

At the fearful words they uttered. 
50 Forth into the empty forest 

Rushed the maddened Hiawatha; 

In his heart was deadly sorrow, 

In his face a stony firmness; 

On his brow the sweat of anguish 
55 Started, but it froze and fell not. 

Wrapped in furs and armed for hunting, 

With his mighty bow of ash-tree, 

With his quiver full of arrows, 

With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 
60 Into the vast and vacant forest 

On his snow-shoes strode he forward. 
"Gitche Manito, the Mighty!" 

Cried he with his face uplifted 

In that bitter hour of anguish, 
65 "Give your children food, O father! 

Give us food, or we must perish! 

Give me food for Minnehaha, 

For my dying Minnehaha! " 

Through the far-resounding forest, 
70 Through the forest vast and vacant, 

Rang that cry of desolation. 

But there came no other answer 

Than the echo of his crying. 

Than the echo of the woodlands, 
75 "Minnehaha! Minnehaha!" 

All day long roved Hiawatha 

In that melancholy forest. 

Through the shadow of whose thickets, 

In the pleasant days of Summer, 
SO Of that ne'er forgotten Summer, 



230 Narrative Poem^ oj Longjellow 

He had brought his young wife homeward 
From the land of the Dacotahs; 
When the birds sang in the thickets, 
And the streamlets laughed and glistened 
85 And the air was full of fragrance, 

And the lovely Laughing Water 
Said with voice that did not tremble, 
"I will follow you, my husband! " 
In the wigwam with Nokomis, 
90 With those gloomy guests, that watched her. 

With the Famine and the Fever, 
She was lying, the Beloved, 
She the dying Minnehaha. 
"Hark! " she said; "I hear a rushing, 
95 Hear a roaring and a rushing, 

Hear the falls of Minnehaha 
Calling to me from a distance! " 
"No, my child! " said old Nokomis, 
" 'T is the night-wind in the pine-trees!" 

100 "Look! " she said; " I see my father 

Standing lonely at his doorway, 
Beckoning to me from his wigwam 
In the land of the Dacotahs!" 
"No, my child!" said old Nokomis, 

105 " 'T is the smoke, that waves and beckons! " 

"Ah! " said she, "the eyes of Pauguk 
Glare upon me in the darkness, 
I can feel his icy fingers 
Clasping mine amid the darkness! 

110 Hiawatha! Hiawatha!" 

And the desolate Hiaw'atha, 
Far away amid the forest, 
Miles away among the mountains, 
Heard that sudden cry of anguish, 

115 Heard the voice of Minnehaha 

Calling to him in the darkness, 
"Hiawatha! Hiawatha!" 

Over snow-fields waste and pathless, 
Tender snow-encumbered branches, 

120 Homeward hurried Hiawatha, 

Empty-handed, heavy-hearted, 
Heard Nokomis moaning, wailing: 



TIce Song of Hiawatha 237 

" Wahonowin! Wahonowiii! 

Would that 1 liad perished for you, 
125 Would that 1 were dead as you are! 

Wahonowin! Wahonowin! " 

And he rushed into the wigwam, 

Saw the old Nokomis slowly 

Rocking to and fro and moaning, 
130 Saw his lovely Minnehaha 

Lying dead and cold before him. 

And his bursting heart within him 

Uttered such a cry of anguish, 

That the forest moaned and sliuddered, 
135 That the very stars in heaven 

Shook and trembled with his anguish. 
Then he sat down, still and speechless, 

On the bed of Minnehaha, 

At the feet of Laughing Water, 
140 At those willing feet, that never 

More would lightly run to meet him, 

Never more would lightly follow. 

With both hands his face he covered, 

Seven long days and nights he sat there, 
145 As if in a swoon he sat there 

Speechless, motionless, imconscious 

Of the daylight or the darkness. 
Then they buried Minnehaha; 

In the snow a grave they made her, 
150 In the forest deep and darksome, 

Underneath the moaning henilocks; 

Ulothed her in her richest garments, 

Wrapped her in her robes of ermine. 

Covered her with snow, like ermine; 
155 Thus they buried Minnehaha. 

And at night a fire w^as lighted. 

On her grave four times was kindled, 

For her soul upon its jovu'ney 

To the Islands of the Blessed. > 

160 From his doorway Hiawatha >#' 

Saw it burning in the forest, 

Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks; 

From his sleepless bed uprising, 

From the bed of Minnehaha, 



238 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

165 Stood and watched it at the doorway, 

That it might not be extinguished, 
Might not leave her in the darkness. 
''Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha! 
Farewell, O my Laughing Water! 

170 All my heart is buried with you, 

All my thoughts go onward with youl 
Come not back again to suffer, 
Come not back again to labor, 
Where the Famine and the Fever 

175 Wear the heart and waste the body. 

Soon my task will be completed. 
Soon your footsteps I shall follow 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 

180 To the land of the Hereafter! " 



XXI 

THE WHITE man's FOOT 

In his lodge beside a river. 
Close beside a frozen river, 
Sat an old man, sad and lonely. 
White his hair was as a snow-drift; 
5 Dull and low his fire was burning, 

And the old man shook and trembled. 
Folded in his. Waubewyon, 
In his tattered, white-skin-wrapper, 
Hearing nothing but the tempest 

10 As it roared along the forest, 

Seeing nothing but the snow-storm. 
As it whirled and hissed and drifted. 
All the coals were white with ashes 
And the fire was slowly dying, 

15 As a young man, walking lightlj''. 

At the open doorway entered. 
Red with blood of youth his cheeks wore, 
Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time, 
Bound his forehead was with grasses; 

20 Bound and plumed with scented grasses, 



The Song of Hiawatha 239 

On his lips a smile of beauty, 

Filling all the lodge with sunshine, 

In his hand a bunch of blossoms 

Filling all the lodge with sweetness. 
25 "Ah, my son! " exclaimed the old man, 

"Happy are my eyes to see you. 

Sit here on the mat beside me, 

Sit here by the dying embers. 

Let us pass the night together. 
30 Tell me of your strange adventures, 

Of the lands where you have travelled; 

I will tell you of my prowess. 

Of my many deeds of wonder." 

From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe, 
35 Very old and strangely fashioned; 

Made of red stone was the pipe-head, 

And the stem a reed with feathers; 

Filled the pipe with bark of willow. 

Placed a burning coal upon it, 
40 Gave it to his guest, the stranger. 

And began to speak in this wise: 
"When I blow my breath about me, 

When I breathe upon the landscape. 

Motionless are all the rivers, 
45 Hard as stone becomes the water! " 

And the young man answered, smiling: 

"When I blow my breath about me, 

When I breathe upon the landscape 

Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, 
50 Singing, onward rush the rivers! " 

"When I shake my hoary tresses," 

Said the old man, darkly frowning, 

"All the land with snow is covered; 

All the leaves from all the branches 
55 Fall and fade and die and wither. 

For I breathe, and lo! they are not. 

From the waters and the marshes 

Rise the wild goose and the heron, 

Fly away to distant regions, 
60 For I speak, and lo! they are not. 

And where'er my footsteps wander, 

All the wild beasts of the forest 



240 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow 

Hide themselves in holes and caverns, 
And the earth becomes as flint-stone! '* 

65 ''When I shake my flowing ringlets," 

Said the young man, softly laughing, 
" Showers of rain fall warm and welcome, 
Plants lift up their heads rejoicing, 
Back unto their lakes and marshes 

70 Come the wild goose and the heron. 

Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow, 
Sing the blue-bird and the robin, 
And where'er my footsteps wander, 
All the meadows wave with blossoms, 

75 All the woodlands ring with music. 

All the trees are dark with foliage! " 

While they spake, the night departed; 
From the distant realms of Wabun, 
From his shining lodge of silver, 

80 Like a warrior robed and painted. 

Came the sun, and said "Behold me! 
Gheezis, the great sun, behold me! " 

Then the old man's tongue was speechless. 
And the air grew warm and pleasant, 

85 And upon the wigwam sweetly 

Sang the blue-bird and the ro))in, 
And the stream began to murmur. 
And a scent of growing grasses 
Through the lodge was gently wafted. 

90 And Segwun, the youthful stranger, 

More distinctly in the daylight 
Saw the icy face before him; 
It was Peboan, the Winter! 

From his eyes the tears were flowing, 

95 As from melting lakes the streamlets, 

And his body shrunk and dwindled 
As the shouting sun ascended. 
Till into the air it faded. 
Till into the ground it vanished. 
100 And the young man saw before him. 

On the hearthstone of the wigwam, 
Where the fire had smoked and smouldered, 
Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time, 
Saw the beauty of the Spring-time, 



The Song of Hiawatha 241 

105 Saw the Miskodeed in blossom. 

Thus it was that in the Northland 

After that unheard-of coldness, 

That intolerable winter, 

Came the Spring with all its splendor, 
110 All its birds and all its blossoms, 

All its flowers and leaves and grasses. 
Sailing on the wind to northward. 

Flying in great flocks, like arrows. 

Like huge arrows shot through heaven, 
115 Passed the swan, the Mahnahbezee, 

Speaking almost as a man speaks; 

And in long lines waving, bending 

Like a bow-string snapped asunder. 

Came the white goose, Waw-be-wawa; 
120 And in pairs, or singly flying, 

Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions, 

The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 

And the grouse, the Mushkodasa. 
In the thickets and the meadows 
125 Piped the blue-bird, the Owaissa, 

On the summit of the lodges 

Sang the robin, the Opechee, 

In the covert of the pine-trees 

Cooed the pigeon, the Omeme, 
130 And the sorrowing Hiawatha, 

Speechless in his infinite sorrow. 

Heard their voices calling to him. 

Went forth from his gloomy doorway, 

Stood and gazed into the heaven, 
135 Gazed upon the earth and waters. 

From his wanderings far to eastward, 

From the regions of the morning. 

From the shining land of Wabun, 

Homeward now returned lagoo, 
140 The great traveller, the great boaster. 

Full of new and strange adventures. 

Marvels many and many wonders. 
And the people of the village 

Listened to him as he told them 
145 Of his marvellous adventures, 

Laughing answered him in this wise: 



242 Narrative Poer/is of Longfellow 

"Ugh! it is indeed la goo! 
No one else beholds such wonders! " 
He had seen, he said, a water 

150 Bigger than the Big-Sea-Water, 

Broader than the Gitche Gumee, 
Bitter so that none could drink it! 
At each other looked the warriors, 
Looked the women at each other, 

155 Smiled, and said, "It cannot be so! 

Kaw! " they said, "it cannot be sol " 

O'er it, said he, o'er this water 
Came a great canoe with pinions, 
A canoe with wings came flying, 

1 no Bigger than a grove of pine-trees, 

Taller than the tallest tree-tops! 
And the old men and the women 
Looked and tittered at each other; 
"Kaw!" they said, "we don't believe it!" 

165 From its mouth, he said, to greet him, 

Game Waywassimo, the lightning, 
Game the thunder, Annemeekee! 
And the warriors an<l the women 
Laughed aloud at poor lagoo; 

1 70 " Kaw! " they said, "what tales you tell ub! " 

In it, said he, came a people, 
In the great canoe with pinions 
Game, he said, a hundred warriors; 
Painted white were all their faces, 

175 And with hair their chins were covered! 

And the warriors and the women 
Laughed and shouted in derision. 
Like the ravens on the tree-tops, 
Like the crows upon the hemlocks. 

ISO "Kaw!" they said, "what lies you tell us. 

Do not think that we believe them! " 

Only Hiawatha laughed not. 
But he gravely spake and answered 
To their jeering and their jesting: 

185 "True is all lagoo tells us; 

I have seen it in a vision. 
Seen the great canoe with pinions, 
Seen the people with white faces, 



The Song of Hiawatha 243 

Seen the coming of this beardea 
190 People of the wooden vessel 

From the regions of the morning, 

From the shining land of Wabun. 

"Gitche Manito, the Mighty, 

The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
1 35 Sends them hither on his errand, 

Sends them to us with his message. 

Wheresoe'er they move, before them 

Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo, 

Swarms the bee, the honey-maker; 
200 Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them 

Springs a flower miknown among us, 

Springs the White-man's foot in blossom. 
"Let us welcome, then, the strangers, 

Hail them as our friends and brothers, 
205 And the heart's right hand of friendship 

Give them when they come to see us. 

Gitche Manito, the Mighty, • 

Said this to me in my vision. 
"I beheld, too, in that vision, 
210 All the secrets of the future. 

Of the distant days that shall be. 

I beheld the westward marches 

Of the unknown, crowded nations. 

All the land was full of people, 
215 Restless, struggUng, toiling, striving, 

Speaking many tongues, yet feeling 

But one heart-beat in their bosoms. 

In the woodlands rang their axes, 

Smoked their towns in all the valleys, 
220 Over all the lakes and rivers 

Rushed their great canoes of thunder. 
"Then a darker, drearier vision. 

Passed before me, vague and cloudlike. 

I beheld our nations scattered, 
225 All forgetful of my counsels. 

Weakened, warring with each other; 

Saw the remnants of our people 

Sweeping westward, wild and woful, 

Like the cloud-rack of a tempest, 
230 Like the withered leaves of autumn!" 



244 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 



XXII ' 



HIAWATHA S DEPARTURE 

By the shore of Gitche Gumee, 
By the shining Big-Sea- Water, 
At the doorway of his wigwam, 
In the pleasant Summer morning, 
5 Hiawatha stood and waited. 

All the air was full of freshness, 
All the earth was bright and joyous. 
And before him, through the sunshine, 
Westward toward the neighboring forest 

10 Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo, 

Passed the bees, the honey-makers, 
Burning, singing in the sunshine. 

Bright above him shone the heavens, 
Level spread the lake before him, 

15 From its bosom leaped the sturgeon, 

Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine; 
On its margin the great forest 
Stood reflected in the water, 
Every tree-top had its shadow, 

20 Motionless beneath the water. 

From the brow of Hiawatha 
Gone was every trace of sorrow, 
As the fog from off the water, 
!As the mist from off the meadow. 

25 With a smile of joy and triumph, 

With a look of exultation, 
As of one who in a vision 
Sees what is to be, but is not, 
Stood and waited Hiawatha. 

30 Toward the sun his hands were lifted, 

Both the palms spread out against it, 
And between the parted fingers 
Fell the sunshine on his features. 
Flecked with light his naked shoulders, 

35 As it falls and flecks an oak-tree 

Through the rifted leaves and branches. 

O'er the water floating, flying, 
Something in the hazy distance, ' 



The Song of Hiawatha 245 

Something in the mists of morning, 
40 Loomed and hfted from the water, 

Now seemed floating, now seemed flymg. 

Coming nearer, nearer, nearer. 
Was it Shingebis, the diver? 

Or the peHcan, the Shada? 
45 Or the heron, the Shiih-shiih-gah? 

Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa, 

With the water dripping, flashing 

From its glossy neck and feathers? 
It was neither goose nor diver, 
50 Neither pehcan nor heron, 

O'er the water floating, flying, 

Through the shining mist of morning, 

But a birch-oanoe with paddles. 

Rising, sinking on the water, 
55 Dripping, flashing in the sunshine, 

And within it came a people 

From the distant land of Wabun, 

From the farthest realms of morning 

Came the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet, 
60 He the Priest of Prayer, the Pale-face, 

With his guides and his companions. 
And the noble Hiawatha, 

With his hands aloft extended, 

Held aloft in sign of welcome, 
65 Waited, full of exultation. 

Till the birch canoe with paddles 

Grated on the shining pebbles, 

Stranded on the sandy margin. 

Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, 
70 With the cross upon his bosom. 

Landed on the sandy margin. 
Then the joyous Hiawatha 

Cried aloud and spake in this wise: 

"Beautiful is the sun, O strangers, 
75 When you come so far to see us! 

All our town in peace awaits you. 

All our doors stand open for you; 

You shall enter all our wigwams. 

For the heart's right hand we give you. 
80 " Never bloomed the earth so gayly, 



246 Narrative Poems of Lo7ig)'eUow 

Never shone the sun so brightly, 
As to-day they shine and blossom 
When you come so far to see us! 
Never was our lake so tranquil, 
85 Nor so free from rocks and sand-bars; 

For your birch canoe in passing 
Has removed both rock and sand-barl 
"Never before had our tobacco 
Such a sweet and pleasant flavor, 
90 Never the broad leaves of our corn-fields 

Were so beautiful to look on, 
As they seem to us this morning. 
When you come so far to see us! " 

And the Black-Robe chief made answer, 
95 Stammered in his speech a little, 

Speaking words yet unfamiliar: 
"Peace be with you, Hiawatha, 
Peace be with you and your people, 
Peace of prayer, and peace of pardon, 

100 Peace of Christ, and joy of Mary! " 

Then the generous Hiawatha 
Led the strangers to his wigwam, 
Seated them on skins of bison. 
Seated them on skins of ermine, 

105 And the careful, old Nokomis 

Brought them food in bowls of basswood, 
Water brought in birchen dippers, 
And the calumet, the peace-pipe, 
Filled and lighted for their smoking. 

110 All the old men of the village. 

All the warriors of the nation, 
All the Jossakeeds, the prophets. 
The magicians, the Wabenos. 
And the medicine-men, the Medas, 

1 15 Came to bid the strangers welcome; 

"It is well," they said, "O brothers, 
That you come so far to see us!" 
In a circle round the doorway. 
With their pipes they sat in silence, 

120 Waiting to behold the strangers, 

Waiting to receive their message; 
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, 



The Song of Hiawatha 247 

From the wigwam came to greet them, 
fetam.mermg m his speech a HttJe, 
125 Speakmg words yet unfamiliar; 

"It is well," they said, "O brother, 
That you come so far to see us! " 

Theri the Black-Robe chief, the prophet, 
lold his message to the people, 
130 Told the purport of his mission, 

Told them of the Virgin Mary, 
And her blessed Son, the Saviour, 
How in distant lands and ages 
He had lived on earth as we do; 
135 How he fasted, prayed, and labored; 

How the Jews, the tribe accursed, 
Mocked him, scourged him, crucified him; 
How he rose from where they laid him; 
Walked again with his disciples, 
140 And ascended into heaven. 

And the chiefs made answer, saying: 
"We have listened to your message. 
We have heard your words of wisdom, 
We will think on what you tell us. 
145 It is well for us, O brothers, 

That you come so far to see us! " 

Then they rose up and departed 
Each one homeward to his wigwam. 
To the young men and the women 
150 Told the story of the strangers 

Whom the Master of Life had sent them 
From the shining land of Wabun. 

Heavy with the heat and silence 
Grew the afternoon of Summer; 
155 With a drowsy sound the forest 

Whispered round the sultry wigwam, 
With a sound of sleep the water 
Rippled on the beach below it; 
From the corn-fields shrill and ceaseless 
160 Sang the grasshopper, Pah-Pukkeena; 

And the guests of Hiawatha, 
Weary with the heat of Summer, 
Slumbered in the sultry wigwam. 
Slowly o'er the simniering landscape 



248 Narrative Poems of Longfellow , 

165 Fell the evening's dusk and coolness, ] 

And the long and level sunbeams j 

Shot their spears into the forest, .j 

Breaking through its shields of shadow, I 

Rushed into each secret ambush, i 

170 Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow; j 

Still the guests of Hiawatha, ! 

Slumbered in the silent wigwam. •■ 

From his place rose Hiawatha, j 

Bade farewell to old Nokomis, j 

175 Spake in whispers, spake in this wise, : 

Did not wake the guests, that slumbered: 
"I am going, O Nokomis, 

On a long and distant journey, 

To the portals of the Sunset, ■ 

180 To the regions of the home-wind, ■ 

Of the Northwest-Wind, Keewaydin. I 

But these guests I leave behind me. 

In your watch and ward I leave them; 

See that never harm comes near them, 

185 See that never fear molests them, j 

Never danger nor suspicion, j 

Never want of food or shelter, ) 

In the lodge of Hiawatha! " 
Forth into the village went he, 

1 90 Bade farewell to all the warriors, ■ 

Bade farewell to all the young men, j 

Spake persuading, spake in this wise: : 

"I am going, O my people, ! 

On a long and distant journey, 
1 95 Many moons and many winters 

Will have come, and will have vanished, ■ 

Ere I come again to see you. j 

But my guests I leave behind me; 

Listen to their words of wisdom, ' 

200 Listen to the truth they tell you, , I 

For the Master of Life has sent them 

From the land of light and morning! " i 
On the shore stood Hiawatha, 

Turned and waved his hand at parting; ; 

205 On the clear and luminous water ; 

Launched his birch-canoe for sailing, ■; 



The Song of Hiawatha 249 

From the pebbles of the margin 
Shoved it forth into the water; 
'Whispered to it, "Westward! westward!" 
And with speed it darted forward. 

And the evening sun descending 
Set the clouds on fire with redness, 
Burned the broad sky, like a prairie, 
Left upon the level water 
One long track and trail of splendor, 
Down whose stream, as down a river, 
Westward, westward Hiawatha 
Sailed into the fiery sunset. 
Sailed into the purple vapors, 
Sailed into the dusk of evening. 

And the people from the margin 
Watched him floating, rising, sinking, 
Till the birch-canoe seemed lifted 
High into that sea of splendor, 
Till it sank into the vapors 
Like the new moon slowly, slowly 
Sinking in the purple distance. 

And they said, "Farewell foreverl" 
Said, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the forests, dark and lonely, 
Moved through all their depths of darkness, 
Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the waves upon the margin 
Rising, rippling on the pebbles, 
Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From her haunts among the fen-lands, 
Screamed, "Farewell, O Hiawathal" 

Thus departed Hiawatha, 
Hiawatha, the Beloved, 
In the glory of the sunset, 
In the purple mists of evening. 
To the regions of the home-wind, 
Of the Northwest-wind, Keewaydin, 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 
To the Land of the Hereafter! 



INTRODUCTION TO THE COURTSHIP OF 
MILES STANDISH 

The Courtship oj Miles Standish appeared in 1858. 
Encouraged by the tremendous success of Evangeline, 
published in 1847, and The Song oj 
g , . . Hiawatha, pubhshed in 1855, Longfel- 

low undertook this work upon the sug- 
gestion of one of his friends that he write a poem on the 
Puritans and the Quakers. The suggestion appealed to 
him, and he began at once to look for material. Seeing, 
without looking far, the tragic side of Colonial life, the 
result of his first effort with the subject was the beginning 
of The New England Tragedies, which ultimately formed 
the third part of Christus, published in 1872. After this 
heavy beginning, it was not long before he found a lighter 
subject that appealed to him, though he did little with it 
for a year. In December, 1857, he writes in his diary: 
*'.... I begin a new poem, Priscilla, to be a kind of 
Puritan pastoral; the subject, the Courtship of Miles 
Standish. This, I think, will be a better treatment of the 
subject than the dramatic one I wrote some time ago." 
An entry the next day adds: "My poem is in hexameters; 

250 



Introduction to Courtship of Miles Standish 251 

an idyl of the Old Colony times. What it will turn out 
I do not know ; but it gives me pleasure to write it ; and that 
I count for something." The work was begun seriously 
the next month, and in less than two months it was finished. 
This rapid work was in striking contrast with the way 
Evangeline dragged over the greater part of two years. 

The subject is more truly American in theme than 
either of the two long narrative poems preceding. He tells 

no pathetic story of divided love; he in- 
^, troduces only incidentally the American 

Indian ; but he gives in a straight-forward 
way a real story based on the annals of his own ancestors, 
A direct descendant of John Alden and Priscilla, he feels 
the nearness of his subject-matter, and the homely Puri- 
tan tale pulsates with the sorrows and joys, the privations 
and the triumphs, of the little band whose endurance went 
into the making of the sturdy New England character and 
of the determined American spirit. 

The poet had his material from the original sources. 
The long-lost manuscript of Governor Bradford's History 

of Plymouth People and Colony covering 
., p the period from 1620 to 1644, had just 

been recovered and published in 1856, 
giving its readers a new interest in the Old Colony days. 
It can hardly be doubted that the publication of this 
valuable work at the time of the poet's search for Colonial 
material, was most opportune. The work of Abiel Holmes, 
Annals of America, published in 1829, was in the poet's 



252 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

possession, and this too gave the early history in interesting 
narrative. But the two works on which he drew chiefly for 
inspiration and material were these : Young's Chronicles of 
the Pilgrims (including Bradford and Winslow's Journal, 
and other interesting contemporary accounts), a valuable 
source-book which appeared in 1841; and Charles Wyllis 
Elliott's History oj Nciv England, published in 1857, a work 
that attempted to portray vividly the daily household life of 
the Puritan village with all the little details so often over- 
looked by the historian. The latter work is truly what it 
aimed to be, — a graphic reconstruction of Puritan domestic 
life. 

On the basis of these historical works, from which he 
took his material freely, Longfellow^ proceeded to construct 

TT- X • 1 his poem on literary rather than on his- 

Historical . ^ . "^ 

Value of torical lines. He took the prosaic, realis- 

the Poem tic, unimaginative basis, and made such 

changes as he deemed necessary for the 
bettering of the story. The liberties he took were few, 
however, and while the story with its severe and simple 
setting has not suffered in essential accuracy of detail, 
it has thereby been rendered more dramatic and con- 
sistent with itself. The large number of Biblical allu- 
sions and references, (see Notes), is in keeping w4th the 
Puritan tendency to quote Scripture on all possible oc- 
casions. The incident of Priscilla's reply to John Alden, 
upon wdiich the story hinges, is only a tradition, but 
in all other respects the poem is truly historical. It 



Introduction to Courtship of Miles Standish 253 

does not follow scrupulously the Plymouth chronology, 
but it docs catch the true spirit of the times, and this, 
together with the pictures of Colonial life giving the human 
side of the New England forefathers, enhances the his- 
torical value. The poem is not only history and romance; 
it is a transcript from Plymouth life. 

The characters are neither creations nor idealizations. 
The poet has taken them as they were, as they lived, as 
they enacted the scenes of this story, and 
The Characters has woven anew the story around them. 
They all have biographies in the New 
England Dictionary of Biographi/, and these give little 
that the reader does not get from Longfellow's poem. 
Miles Standish with his quick temper, ''sensitive, swift 
to resent, but as swift in atoning for error;" John Alden 
with his simpleness and goodness and timidity, and his 
scrupulous fear of unscriptural conduct; Priscilla with 
her charity and nobility of womanhood, with her delicate 
humor and tact and good sense;— these have become 
popular character portraits in our national literary gallery, 
and had they been created outright instead of being 
painted from old pictures of real life, the critic would call 
them great. Life-like copies are only a little less great 
than original creations. Indeed, comparing Priscilla with 
Evangeline, the poet's own creation, she seems far more 
human and less an idealized abstraction. 

The style of the poem is, in some respects, a falling-off 
from that of his previous works. The poetic level is not 



254 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

so well sustained as it was in Evangeline; in fact, some of 
the lines are exceedingly prosaic. But in spite of this, per- 
haps because of it, the story moves along 
Style rapidly fora verse narrative. The supreme 

feature of the poem is its humor, which 
gives the lightness of touch necessary to make the sombre 
and depressing atmosphere of the first winter in Plymouth 
a suitable setting for a pleasant tale. There is no romantic 
sweep, no particular inspiration about the poem, but the 
genial and sympathetic humor breathing all through it 
is what saves it from being mere commonplace narration 
in verse. There are, moreover, passages as good as the 
best in Evangeline. 

The meter used in The Courtship of Miles Standish is 
the same as that of Evangeline, dactylic hexameter, and 
here shows its power of adapting itself to material of a lighter 
vein. The verse differs from that of Evangeline in being 
less regularly dactylic. The easy style of the poem is due 
in some respects to the varying accents and to the free use 
of substitutions for the regular foot. This gives a certain 
crispness of touch that harmonizes readily with the light- 
ness of the theme. 



THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 



THE COURTSHIP OF MILES STANDISH 

I 

MILES STANDISH 

In the Old Colony days, in Plymouth the land of the Pilgrims, 
To and fro in a room of his simple and primitive dwelling, 
Clad in doublet and hose, and boots of Cordovan leather. 
Strode, with a martial rdr, Miles Standish tlie Puritan Captain. 
6 Buried in thought he seemed, with his hands behind him, and 
pausing 
Ever and anon to behoKl his glittering weapons of warfare, 
Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, — 
Cutlass antl eorselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damascus, 
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic 
sentence, 
10 While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, and > 
matchlock. 
Short of stature he was, but strongly built and athletic, 
Broad in the shoulders, deep-chested, with muscles and sinews 

of iron; 
Brown as a nut was his face, but his russet beard was already _- 
Flaked with patches of snow, as hedges sometimes in November. 
15 Near him was seated John Alden, his friend and household com- 
panion, 
AVriting with diligent speed at a table of pine by the window; 
Fair-haired, azure-eyed, with delicate Saxon complexion, 
Having the dew of his youth, and the beauty thereof, as the 

captives 
Whom Saint Gregory saw, and exclaimed, "Not Angles but An- 
gels." 
20 Youngest of all was he of the men who came in the May Flower. I 

Suildenly breaking the silence, the diligent scribe interrupting, 
Spake, in the pride of his heart. Miles Standish the Captain of . 
Plymouth. 

256 



The Courtship of Miles Stanriish 257 

"Look at these arms," he said, "the warhkc weapons that hang 
here, 

Burnished and bright and clean, as if for parade or inspection! 
25 This is the sword of Damascus 1 fought with in Fhanders; this 
breastphite, 

Well I remember the day! once saved my life in a skirmish; 

Here in front you can see the very dint of the bullet 

Fired point-blank at my heart by a Spanish arcabucero. 

Had it not been of sheer steel, the forgotten bones of Miles 
Standish 
30 Would at this moment be mould, in their grave in the Flemish 
morasses." 

Thereupon answered John Alden, but looked not up from his 
writing: 

"Truly the breath of the Lord hath slackened the s])eed of the 
bullet; 

He in his mercy preserved you, to bo our shii-ld and our weapon!" 

Still the Captain continued, unhee<ling the words of the strij)ling: 
35 " See, how bright they are burnished, as if in an arsenal hanging; 

That is because I have done it myself and not left it to others. 

Serve yourself, would you be well served, is an excellent adage; 

So I take care of my arms, as you of your pens and your iiikhorn. 

Then, too, there are my soldiers, my great, invincible army, 
40 Twelve men, all equipped, having each his rest and his match- 
lock, 

Eighteen shillings a month, together with diet and pillage, 

And, like Caesar, I know the name of each of my soldiers! " 

This he said with a smile, that danced in liis eyes, as the sun- 
beams 

Dance on the waves of the .sea, and vanish again in a moment. 
45 Alden laughed as he wrote, and still the Captain continueil: 

" Look! you can see from this window my brazen howitzer 
planted 

High on the roof of the church, a preacher who speaks to the 
purpo.se. 

Steady, straight-forward, and strong, with irresistible logic, 

Orthodox, flashing conviction right into the hearts of the 
heathen. 
50 Now we are ready, I think, for any as.sault of the Indians; 

Let them come, if they like, and the sooner they try it the 
better, — 

Let them come if they like, be it sagamore, .sachem, or {)ow-wow, 



258 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Aspinet, Samoset, Ccrbitant, Squanto, or Tokamahamon! " 

Long at the v/indow he stood, and wistfully gazed on the land- 
scape, 
55 Washed with a cold gray mist, the vapory breath of the east- 
wind. 

Forest and meadow and hill, and the steel-blue rim of the ocean, 

Lying silent and sad, in the afternoon shadows and sunshine. 

Over his countenance flitted a shadow like those on the land- 
scape. 

Gloom intermingled with hght; and his voice was subdued with 
emotion, 
60 Tenderness, pity, regret, as after a pause he proceeded: 

" Yonder there, on the hill by the sea, lies buried Rose Standish; 

Beautiful rose of love, that bloomed for me by the wayside! 

She was the first to die of all who came in the May Flower! 

Green above her is growing the field of wheat we have sown '. 
there, 
65 Better to hide from the Indian scouts the graves of our people. 

Lest they should count them and see how many already have 
perished! " 

Sadly his face he averted, and strode up and down, and was 
thoughtful. 

Fixed to the opposite wall was a shelf of books, and among 
them 
Prominent three, distinguished alike for bulk and for binding; 
70 Bariffe's Artillery Guide, and the Commentaries of Csesar, 
Out of the Latin translated by Arthur Goldinge of London, 
And, as if guarded by these, between them was standing the 

Bible. 
Musing a moment before them. Miles Standish paused, as if 

doubtful 
Which of the three he should choose for his consolation and com- 
fort, 
75 Whether the wars of the Hebrews, the famous compaigns of the 
Romans, 
Or the Artillery practice, designed for belligerent Christians. 
Finally down from its shelf he dragged the ponderous Roman, 
Seated himself at the window, and opened the book, and in silence 
Turned o'er the well-worn leaves, where thumb-marks thick on 
the margin, 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 259 

80 Like the trample of feet, proclaimed the battle was hottest. 
Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the 

stripling, 
Busily writing epistles important, to go by the May Flower, 
Ready to sail on the morrow, or next day at latest, God willmgl 
Homeward bound with the tidings of all that terrible winter, 

85 Letters written by Alden, and full of the name of Priscilla, 
Full of the name and the fame of the Puritan maiden Pnscillal 

II 

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP 

Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the 

stripling, 
Of an occasional sigh from the laboring heart of the Captain, 
Reading the marvellous words and achievements of Julius 

Caesar. 
90 After a while he exclaimed, as he smote with his hand, palm 

downwards. 
Heavily on the page: "A wonderful man was this Cffisar! 
You are a writer, and I am a fighter, but here is a fellow 
Who could both v/rite and fight, and in both was equally skil- 
ful! " 
Straightway answered and spake John Alden, the comely, the 

youthful: 
95 " Yes, he was equally skilled, as you say, with his pen and his 

weapons. 
Somewhere have I read, but where I forget, he could dictate ^^ 
Seven letters at once, at the same time writing his memoirs." 
"Truly," continued the Captain, not heeding or hearing the 

other, 
" Truly a wonderful man was Caius Julius Caesar! 
100 Better be first, he said, in a little Iberian village, 

Than be second in Rome, and I think he was right when he said 

it. 
Twice was he married before he was twenty, and many times 

Battles five hundred he fought, and a thousand cities he con- 
quered; 
He, too, fought in Flanders, as he himself has recorded; 
105 Finally he was stabbed by his friend the orator Brutusl 



260 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Now, do you know what he did on a certain occasion in Flanders, 

When the rear-guard of his army retreated, the front giving way 
too, 

And the immortal Twelfth Legion was crowded so closely to- 
gether 

There was no room for their swords? Why, he seized a shield 
from a soldier, 
110 Put himself straight at the head of his troops, and commanded 
the captains. 

Calling on each by his name, to order forward the ensigns; 

Then to widen the ranks, and give more room for their weapons; 

So he won the day, the battle of something-or-other. 

That's what I always say; if you wish a thing to be well done, 
115 You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others!" 

All was silent again; the Captain continued his reading. 
Nothing was heard in the room but the hurrying pen of the 

stripling 
Writing epistles important to go next day by the May Flower, 
Filled with the name and the fame of the Puritan maiden Pris- 
cilla; 
1 20 Every sentence began or closed with the name of Priscilla, 
Till the treacherous pen, to which he confided the secret. 
Strove to betray it by singing and shouting the name of Priscilla! 
Finally closing his book, with a bang of the ponderous cover. 
Sudden and loud as the sound of a soldier grounding his musket, 
125 Thus to the young man spake Miles Standish the Captain of 
Plymouth : 
"When you have finished your work, I have something impor- 
tant to tell you. 
Be not however in haste; I can wait; I shall not be impatient! " 
Straightway Alden replied, as he folded the last of his letters. 
Pushing his papers aside, and giving respectful attention: 
, 130 "Speak; for whenever you speak, I am always ready to listen, 
Always ready to hear whatever pertains to Miles Standish." 
Thereupon answered the Captain, embarrassed, and culling his 

phrases: 
" 'T is not good for a man to be alone, say the Scriptures. 
This I have said before, and again and again I repeat it; 
1 35 Every hour in the day, I think it, and feel it, and say it 

Since Rose Standish died, my life has been weary and dreary; 
Sick at heart have I been, beyond the healing of friendship. 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 2G1 

Oft in my lonely hours have I thought of the maiden Priscilla 
She is alone in the world; her father and mother and brother 

140 Died in the winter together; I saw her going and coming, 

Now to the grave of the dead and now to the bed of the dying, 
Patient, courageous, and strong, and said to myself, that if ever 
There were angels on earth, as there are angels in heaven. 
Two have I seen and known; and the angel whose name is Pris- 
cilla 

145 Holds in my desolate life the place which the other abandoned. 
Long have I cherished the thought, but never have dared to re- 
veal it, 
Being a coward in this, thovigh vaHant enough for the most part. 
Go to the damsel Priscilla, the loveliest maiden of Plymouth, 
Say that a blunt old Captain, a man not of words but of actions, 

150 Offers his hand and his heart, the hand and heart of a soldier. 
Not in these words, you know, but this in short is my meaning; 
I am a maker of war, and not a maker of phrases. 
You, who are bred as a scholar, can say it in elegant language. 
Such as you read in your books of the pleadings and wooings of 
lovers, 

155 Such as you think best adapted to win the heart of a maiden." 

When he had spoken, John Alden, the fair-haired taciturn 
stripling, 

All aghast at his words, surprised, embarrassed, bewildered. 

Trying to mask his dismay by treating the subject with light- 
ness, 

Trying to smile, and yet feeling his heart stand still in his bosom, 
160 Just as a timepiece stops in a house, that is stricken by Hghtning, 

Thus made answer and spake, or rather stammered than an- 
swered : 

" Such a message as that I am sure I should 'mangle and mar it; 

If you would have it well done, — I am only repeating your 
maxim, — 

You must do it yourself, you must not leave it to others!" 
165 But with the air of a man whom nothing can turn from his pur- 
pose. 

Gravely shaking his head, made answer the Captain of Plymouth : 

"Truly the maxim is good, and I do not mean to gainsay it; 

But we must use it discreetly, and not waste powder for nothing. 

Now, as I said before, I was never a maker of phrases., 
170 I can march up to a fortress and summon the place to surrender, 



262 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

But march up to a woman with such a proposal, I dare not. 
I'm not afraid of bullets nor shot from the mouth of a cannon 
But of a thundering 'No!' point-blank from the mouth of a 

woman, 
That I confess I'm afraid of, nor am I ashamed to confess it! 
175 So you must grant my request, for you are an elegant scholar, 
Having the graces of speech, and skill in the turning of phrases." 
Taking the hand of his friend, who still was reluctant and doubt- 
ful, 
Holding it long in his own, and pressing it kindly, he added: 
"Though I have spoken thus lightly, yet deep is the feeling that 
prompts me; 
180 Surely you cannot refuse what I ask in the name of our friend- 
ship! " 
Then made answer John Alden: "The name of friendship is 

sacred: 
What you demand in that name, I have not the power to deny 

you!" 
So the strong will prevailed, subduing and moulding the gentler. 
Friendship prevailed over love, and Alden went on his errand. 

Ill 

THE lover's errand 

185 So the strong will prevailed, and Alden went on his errand. 

Out of the street of the village, and into the paths of the forest. 
Into the tranquil woods, where bluebirds and robins were build- 
ing 
Towns in the populous trees, with hanging gardens of verdure. 
Peaceful, aerial cities of joy and affection and freedom. 
190 All around him was calm, but within him commotion and con- 
flict. 
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous 

impulse. 
To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing, 
As in a foundering ship, with every roll of the vessel, 
Washes the bitter sea, the merciless surge of the ocean! 
195 "Must I relinquish it all," he cried with a wild lamentation, 
"Must I relinquish it all, the joy, the hope, the illusion? 
Was it for this I have loved, and waited, and worshipped in 
silence? 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 263 

Was it for this I have followed the flying feet and the shadow 

Over the wintry sea, to the desolate shores of New England? 
200 Truly the heart is deceitful, and out of its depths of corruption 

Rise, like an exhalation, the misty phantoms of passion; 

Angels of light they seem, but are only delusions of Satan. 

All is clear to me now; I feel it, I see it distinctly! 

This is the hand of the Lord; it is laid upon me in anger, 
205 For I have followed too much the heart's desires and devices, 

Worshipping Astaroth blindly, and impious idols of Baal. 

This is the cross I must bear; the sin and the swift retribution." 

So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his 
errand; 
Crossing the brook at the ford, where it brawled over pebble and 
shallow, 
210 Gathering still, as he went, the May-flowers blooming around 
him, 
Fragrant, filling the air with a strange and wonderful sweetness, 
Children lost in the woods, and covered with leaves in their 

slumber. 
"Puritan flowers," he said, "and the type of Puritan maidens, 
Modest and simple and sweet, the very type of Priscilla! 
215 So I will take them to her; to Priscilla the May-flower of Ply- 
mouth, 
Modest and simple and sweet, as a parting gift will I take them; 
Breathing their silent farewells, as they fade and wither and 

perish, 
Soon to be thrown away as is the heart of the giver." 
So through the Plymouth woods John Alden went on his errand; 
220 Came to an open space, and saw the disk of the ocean, 

Sailless, sombre and cold with the comfortless breath of the east- 
wind; 
Saw the new-built house, and people at work in a meadow; 
Heard, as he drew near the door, the musical voice of Priscilla 
Singing the hundredth Psalm, the grand old Puritan anthem. 
225 Music that Luther sang to the sacred words of the Psalmist, 

Full of the breath of the Lord, consoling and comforting many. 
Then, as he opened the door, he beheld the form of the maiden 
Seated beside her wheel, and the carded wool like a snow-drift 
Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous spindle, 
230 While with her foot on the treadle she guided the wheel in its 
motion. 



264 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Open wide on her lap lay the well-worn psalm-book of Ainsworth 
Printed in Amsterdam, the words and the musjc together, 
Rough-hewn, angular notes, like stones in the wall of a church- 
yard. 
Darkened and overhung by the running vine of the verses. 
235 Such was the book from whose pages she sang the old Puritan 
anthem, 
She, the Puritan girl, in the solitude of the forest. 
Making the humble house and the modest a|)parel of home-spun 
Beautiful with her beauty, and rich with the wealth of her being! 
Over him rushed, like a wind that is keen and cold and relentless, 
240 Thoughts of what might have been, and the weight and woe of 
his errand; 
All the dreams that had faded, and all the hopes that had van- 
ished, 
All his life henceforth a dreary and tenantless mansion, 
Haunted by vain regrets, and pallid, sorrowful faces. 
Still he said to himself, and almost fiercely he said it, 
245 "Let not him that putteth his hand to the plough look back- 
wards; 
Though the ploughshare cut through the flowers of life to its 

fountains. 
Though it pass o'er the graves of the dead and the hearts of the 

living, 
It is the will of the Lord; and his mercy endureth forever! " 

So he entered the house: and the hum of the wheel and the 
singing 
250 Suddenly ceased; for Priscilla, aroused by his step on the thres- 
hold. 
Rose as he entered, and gave him her hand, in signal of welcome, 
Saying, " I knew it was you, when I heard your step in the pas- 
sage; 
For I was thinking of you, as I sat there singing and spinning." 
Awkward and dumb with delight, that a thought of him had 
been mingled 
255 Thus in the sacred psalm, that came from the heart of the 
maiden. 
Silent before her he stood, and gave her the flowers for an an- 
swer. 
Finding no words for his thought. He remembered that day 
in the winter, 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 265 

After the first great snow, when he broke a path from the \illagc, 
Reehng and plunging along through the drifts that encumbered 
the doorway, 
260 Stamping the snow from his feet as he entered the house, and* 
Priscilla 
Laughed at his snowy locks, and gave him a seat by the fireside, 
Grateful and pleased to know he had thought of her in the snow- 
storm. 
Had he but spoken then! perhaps not in vain had he spoken; 
Now it was all too late; the golden moment had vanished! 
265 So he stood there abashed, and gave her the flowers for an an- 
swer. 

Then they sat down and talked of the birds and the beautiful 
Springtime, 
Talked of their friends at home, and the May Flower that sailed 

on the morrow. 
"I have been thinking all flay," said gently the Puritan maiden, 
"Dreaming all night, and thinking all day, of the hetlge-rows of 
England, — 
270 They are in blossom now, and the country is all like a garden; 
Thinking of lanes and fields, and the song of the lark and the 

linnet, 
Seeing the village street, and familiar faces of neighl)ors 
Going about as of old, and sto])|)ing to gossip together, 
And, at the end of the street, the village church, with the ivy 
275 Climbing the old gray tower, and the quiet graves in the church- 
yard. 
Kind are the people I live with, and dear to me my religion; 
Still my heart is so sad, that I wish myself back in Old Eng- 
land. 
You will say it is wrong, but I cannot help it; I almost 
Wish myself back in Old England, I feel so lonely and wretched." 

280 Thereupon answered the youth: — "Indeed I do not condemn 

you; 
Stouter hearts than a woman's have quailed in this terrible 

winter. 
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on; 
So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage 
Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of 

Plymouth! " 



•1 

266 Narrntive Poems of Longfellow 

285 Thus he dehvered his message, the dexterous writer of 
letters, — 
Did not embellish the theme, nor array it in beautiful phrases, 
But came straight to the point, and blurted it out like a school- 
boy; 
Even the Captain himself could hardly have said it more bluntly. 
Mute with amazement and sorrow, Priscilla the Puritan maiden 
290 Looked into Alden's face, her eyes dilated with wonder. 

Feeling his words like a blow, that stunned her and rendered her 

speechless; 
Till at length she exclaimed, interrupting the ominous silence: 
"If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, 
Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble to woo me? 
295 If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the win- 
ning! " 
Then John Aldcn began explaining and smoothing the matter. 
Making it worse as he went, by saying the Captain was busy, — 
Had no time for such things; — such things! the words grating 

harshly 
Fell on the ear of Priscilla; and swift as a flash she made answer: 
300 "Has he no time for such things, as you call it, before he is 
married, 
Would he be likely to find it, or make it, after the wedding? 
That is the way with you men; you don't understand us, you 

cannot. 
When you have made up your minds, after thinking of this one 

and that one. 
Choosing, selecting, rejecting, comparing one with another, 
305 Then you make known your desire with abrupt and sudden 
avow^al. 
And are offended and hurt, and indignant perhaps, that a women 
Does not respond at once to a love that she never suspected, 
Does not attain at a bound the height to which you have been 

climbing. 
This is not right nor just: for surely a woman's affection 
310 Is not a thing to be asked for, and had for only the asking. 
When one is truly in love, one not only says it, but shows it. 
Had he but waited awhile, had he only showed that he loved me, 
Even this Captain of yours — who knows? — at last might have 

won me. 
Old and rough as he is; but now it never can happen." 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 267 

315 Still John Alden went on, unheeding; the words of Priscilla, 

Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, expanding; 

Spoke of his courage and skill, and of all his battles in Flanders, 

How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction, 

How, in return for his zeal, they had made him Captain of Ply- 
mouth; 
320 He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly 

Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, Eng- 
land, 

Who was the son of Ralph, and the grandson of Thurston de 
Standish; 

Heir unto vast estates of which he was basely defrauded. 

Still bore the family arms, and had for his crest a cock argent, 
325 Combed and wattled gules, and all the rest of the blazon. 

He was a man of honor, of noble and generous nature; 

Though he was rough, he was kindly; she knew how during the 
winter 

He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as woman's; 

Somewhat hasty and hot, he covild not deny it, and headstrong, 
330 Stern as a soldier might l)e, but hearty, and placable always. 

Not to be laughed at and scorned because he was little of stature; 

For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous; 

Any woman in Plymouth, nay any woman in England, 

Might he happy and proud to be called the wife of Miles Stan- 
dish! 

335 But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent 

language. 
Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, 
Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with 

laughter. 
Said in a tremulous voice, "Why don't you speak for yourself, 

John?" 

IV 

JOHN ALDEN 

Into the open air John Alden, perplexed and bewildered, 
340 Rushed like a man insane, and wandered alone by the sea-side; 
Paced up and down the sands, and bared his head to the east- 
wind, 



268 Narrative Poems of Longjellow 

Cooling his heated brow, and the fire and fever within him. 
Slowly as out of the heavens, with apocalyptical splendors, 
Sank the City of God, in the vision of John the Apostle, 
345 So, with its cloudy walls of chrysolite, jasper, and sapphire, 
Sank the broad red sun, and over its turrets uplifted 
Glimmered the golden reed of the angel who measured the city. 

"Welcome, O wind of the East! " he exclaimed in his wild ex- 
ultation, 
"Welcome, O wind of the East, from the caves of the misty 
Atlantic! 
350 Blowing o'er fields of dulse, and measureless meadows of sea- 
grass. 
Blowing o'er rocky wastes, and the grottos and gardens of ocean! 
Lay thy cold, moist hand on my burning forehead, and wrap me 
Close in thy garments of mist, to allay the fever within me! " 

Like an awakened conscience, the sea was moaning and toss- 
ing, 
355 Beating remorseful and loud the mutable sands of the sea-shore. 

Fierce in his soul was the struggle and tumult of passions con- 
tending; 

Love triumphant and crowned, and friendship wounded and 
bleeding, 

Passionate cries of desire, and importimate pleadings of duty! 

"Is it my fault," he said, "that the maiden has chosen between 
us? 
360 Is it my fault that he failed, — my fault that I am the victor?" 

Then within him there thundered a voice, like the voice of the 
Prophet: 

"It hath displeased the Lord!" — and he thought of David's 
transgression, 

Bathsheba's beautiful face, and his friend in the front of the 
battle! 

Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement and self-condem- 
nation, 
365 Overwhelmed him at once; and he cried in the deepest contri- 
tion: 

"It hath displeased the Lord! It is the temptation of Satan! " 

Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea, and beheld 
there 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 269 

Dimly the shadowy form of the May Flower riding at anchor, 

Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the morrow; 
370 Heard the voices of men through the mist, the rattle of cordage 

Thrown on the deck, the shouts of the mate, and the sailor's 
''Ay, ay. Sir!" 

Clear and distinct, but not loud, in the dripping air of the twi- 
light. 

Still for a moment he stood, and listened, and stared at the 
vessel, 

Then went hurriedly on, as one who, seeing a phantom, 
375 Stops, then cjuickens his pace, and follows the beckoning shad- 
ow. 

"Yes, it is plain to me now," he murmured; "the hand of the 
Lord is 

Leading me cut of the land of darkness, the bondage of error. 

Through the sea, that shall lift the walls of its waters around me, 

Hiding me, cutting me off, from the cruel thoughts that j)ursue 
me. 
380 Back will I f o o'er the ocean, this dreary land will abandon. 

Pier whom I may not love, and him whom my heart has offended. 

Better to be in my grave in the green old churchyard in Eng- 
land, 

Close by my mother's side, and among the dust of my kindred; 

Better be dead and forgotten, than living in shame and dishonor! 
385 Sacred and safe and unseen, in the dark of the narrow chamber 

With me my secret shall lie, like a buried jewel that glimmers 

Bright on the hand that is dust, in the chambers of silence and 
darkness, — 

Yes, as the marriage ring of the great espousal hereafter! " 

Thus as he spake, he turned in the strength of his strong reso- 
lution, 
390 Leaving behind him the shore, and hurried along in the twilight, 
Through the congenial gloom of the forest silent and sombre, 
Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of Plymouth, 
Shining like seven stars in the dusk and mist of the evening. 
Soon he entered his door, and found the redoubtable Captain 
395 Sitting alone, and absorbed in the martial pages of Caesar, 

Fighting some great campaign in Hainault or Brabant or Flan- 
ders. 
"Long have you been on your errand," he said with a cheery 
demeanor, 



270 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Even as one who is waiting an answer, and fears not the issue. 
"Not far off is the house, although the woods are between us; 
400 But you have hngered so long, that while you were going and 
coming 
I have fought ten battles and sacked and demolished a city. 
Come, sit down, and in order relate to me all that has happened." 

Then John Alden spake, and related the wondrous adventure. 
From beginning to end, minutely, just as it happened; 
405 How he had seen Priscilla, and how he had sped in his courtship. 
Only smoothing a little, and softening down her refusal. 
But when he came at length to the words Priscilla had spoken, 
Words so tender and cruel: "Why don't you speak for yourself, 

John?" 
Up leaped the Captain of Plymouth, and stamped on the floor, 

till his armor 
410 Clanged on the wall, where it hung, with a sound of sinister 

omen. 
All his pent-up wrath burst forth in a sudden explosion. 
Even as a hand-grenade, that scatters destruction around it. 
Wildly he shouted, and loud: "John Alden! you have betrayed 

mel 
Me, Miles Standish, your friend, have supplanted, defrauded, 

betrayed me! 
415 One of my ancestors ran his sword through the heart of Wat 

Tyler; 
Who shall prevent ijie from running my own through the heart 

of a traitor? 
Yours is the greater treason, for yours is a treason to friendship! 
You, who lived under my roof, whom I cherished and loved as 

a brother; 
You, who have fed at my board, and drunk at my cup, to whose 

keeping 
420 I have intrusted my honor, my thoughts the most sacred and 

secret, — 
You, too, Brutus! ah woe to the name of friendship hereafter! 
Brutus was Caesar's friend, and you were mine, but henceforward 
Let there be nothing between us save war, and implacable 

hatred!" 

So spake the Captain of Plymouth, and strode about in the 
chamber. 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 271 

425 Chafing and choking with rage; like cords were the veins on his 
temples. 

But in the midst of his anger a man appeared at the doorway, 

Bringing in uttermost haste a message of urgent importance, 

Rumors of danger and war and hostile incursions of Indians! 

Straightway the Captain paused, and, without further question 
or parley, 
430 Took from the nail on the wall his sword with its scabbard of 
iron. 

Buckled the belt round his waist, and, frowning fiercely, departed. 

Alden was left alone. He heard the clank of the scabbard 

Growing fainter and fainter, and dying away in the distance. 

Then he arose from his seat, and looked forth into the darkness, 
435 Felt the cool air blow on his cheek, that was hot with the 
insult. 

Lifted his eyes to the heavens, and, folding his hands as in child- 
hood. 

Prayed in the silence of night to the Father who seeth in secret . 

Meanwhile the choleric Captain strode wrathful away to the 
council, 

Found it already assembled, impatiently waiting his coming; 
440 Men in the middle of life, austere and grave in deportment, 

Only one of them old, the hill that was nearest to heaven. 

Covered with snow, but erect, the excellent Elder of Plymouth. 

God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for this plant- 
ing. 

Then had sifted the wheat, as the living seed of a nation; 
445 So say the chronicles old, and such is the faith of the people! 

Near them was standing an Indian, in attitude stern and defiant, 

Naked down to the waist, and grim and ferocious in aspect; 

While on the table before them was lying unopened a Bible, 

Ponderous, bound in leather, brass-studded, printed in Hol- 
land, 
450 And beside it outstretched the skin of a rattlesnake glittered. 

Filled, like a quiver, with arrows; a signal and challenge of 
warfare. 

Brought by the Indian, and speaking with arrowy tongues of 
defiance. 

This Miles Standish beheld, as he entered, and heard them 
debating 

What were an answer befitting the hostile message and menace. 



272 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

455 Talking of this and of that, contriving, suggesting, objecting; 
One voice only for peace, and that the voice of the Elder, 
Judging it wise and well that some at least were converted, 
Rather than any were slain, for this was but Christian behavior! 
Then outspake Miles Standish, the stalwart Captain of Ply- 
mouth, 
460 Muttering deep in his throat, for his voice was husky with anger : 
"What! do you mean to make war with milk and the water of 

roses? 
Is it to shoot red squirrels you have your howitzer planted 
There on the roof of the church, or is it to shoot red devils? 
Truly the only tongue that is understood by a savage 
465 Must be the tongue of fire that speaks from the mouth of the 
cannon! " 
Thereupon answered and said the excellent Elder of Plymouth, 
Somewhat amazed and alarmed at this irreverent language: 
"Not so thought Saint Paul, nor yet the other Apostles; 
Not from the cannon's mouth were the tongues of fire they 
spake with! " 
470 But unheeded fell this mild rebuke on the Captain, 

Who had advanced to the table, and thus continued discoursing: 
"Leave this matter to me, for to me by right it pertaineth. 
War is a terrible trade; but in the cause that is righteous 
Sweet is the smell of powder; and thus I answer the challenge! " 

475 Then from the rattlesnake's skin, with a sudden, contemptuous 
gesture, 
Jerking the Indian arrows, he filled it with powder and bullets 
Full to the very jaws, and handed it back to the savage. 
Saying, in thundering tones: " Here take it! this is your answer! " 
Silently out of the room then glided the glistening savage, 

480 Bearing the serpent's skin, and seeming himself like a serpent, 
Winding his sinuous way in the dark to the depths of the forest. 



THE SAILING OF THE MAY FLOWER 

Just in the gray of the dawn, as the mists uprose from the 
meadows. 

There was a stir and a sound in the slumbering village of Ply- 
mouth; 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 273 

Clanging and clicking of arms, and the order imperative, "For 
ward!" 
485 Given in tone suppressed, a tramp of feet, and then silence. 

Figures ten, in the mist, marched slowly out of the village. 

Standish the stalwart it was, with eight of his valorous army, 

Led by their Indian guide, by Hobomok, friend of the white 
men, 

Northward marching to quell the sudden revolt of the savage. 
490 Giants they seemed in the mist, or the mighty men of King 
David; 

Giants in heart they were, who believed in God and the Bible, — 

Ay, who believed in the smiting of Midianites and Philistines. 

Over them gleamed far off the crimson banners of morning; 

Under them loud on the sands, the serried billows, advancing, 
495 Fired along the line, and in regular order retreated. 

Many a mile had they marched, when at length the village 
of Plymouth 

Woke from its sleep, and arose, intent on its manifold lal)ors. 

Sweet was the air and soft; and slowly the smoke from the chim- 
neys 

Rose over roofs of thatch, and pointed steadily eastward; 
500 Men came forth from the doors, and paused and talked ot cuo 
weather. 

Said that the wind had changed, and was blowing fair for the 
May Flower; 

Talked of their Captain's departure, and all the dangers that 
menaced. 

He being gone, the town, and what should be done in his ab- 
sence. 

Merrily sang the birds, and the tender voices of women 
505 Consecrated with hymns the common cares of the household. 

Out of the sea rose the sun, and the billows rejoiced at his 
coming; 

Beautiful were his feet on the purple tops of the mountains; 

Beautiful on the sails of the May Flower riding at anchor. 

Battered and blackened and worn by all the storms of the winter. 
510 Loosely against her masts was hanging and flapping her canvas. 

Rent by so many gales, and patched by the hands of the sailors. 

Suddenly from her side, as the sun rose over the ocean, 

Darted a puff of smoke, and floated seaward; anon rang 

Loud over field and forest the cannon's roar, and the echoes 



274 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

515 Heard and repeated the sound, the signal-gun of departure! 
Ah! but with louder echoes replied the hearts of the people! 
Meekly, in voices subdued, the chapter was read from the Bible, 
Meekly the prayer was begun, but ended in fervent entreaty! 
Then from their houses in haste came forth the Pilgrims of Ply- 
mouth, 
520 Men and women and children, all hurrying down to the sea- 
shore. 
Eager, with tearful eyes, to say farewell to the May Flower, 
Homeward bound o'er the sea, and leaving them here in the 
desert. 

Foremost among them was Alden. All night he had lain 
without slumber, 

Turning and tossing about in the heat and unrest of his fever. 
525 He had beheld Miles Standish, who came back late from the 
coimcil, 

Stalking into the room, and heard him mutter and murmur, 

Sometimes it seemed a prayer, and sometimes it sounded like 
swearing. 

Once he had come to the bed, and stood there a moment in 
silence; 

Then he had turned away, and said: "I will not awake him; 
530 Let him sleep on, it is best; for what is the use of more talking! " 

Then he extinguished the light, and threw himself down on his 
pallet, 

Dressed as he was, and ready to start at the break of the morn- 
ing,— 

Covered himself with the cloak he had worn in his campaigns 
in Flanders, — 

Slept as a soldier sleeps in his bivouac, ready for action, 
535 But with the dawn he arose; in the twilight Alden beheld him 

Put on his corselet of steel, and all the rest of his armor. 

Buckle about his waist his trusty blade of Damascus, 

Take from the corner his musket, and so stride out of the cham- 
ber. 

Often the heart of the youth had burned and yearned to em- 
brace him, 
540 Often his lips had essayed to speak, imploring for pardon. 

All the old friendship came back, with its tender and grateful 
emotions; 

But his pride overmastered the noble nature within him, — 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 275 

Pride, and the sense of his wrong, and the burning fire of the 
insult. 

. .. i^ ^t-^^^^^1 ^''^ ^''^^''^ departing in anger, but spake not, 
545 feaw him go forth to danger, perhaps to death, and he spake notf 
Ihen he arose from his bed, and heard what the people were 
saying, 

Joined in the talk at the door, with Stephen and Richard and 
Gilbert, 

Joined in the morning prayer, and in the reading of Scripture 

And, with the others, in haste went hurrying down to the sea- 
shore, 
550 Down to the Plymouth Rock, that had been to their feet as a 
doorstep 

Into a world unknown,— the corner-stone of a nation! 

T ^JT^ u ^*^, ^\^ ^^^,* ^^^ *^^ Master, already a little impatient 
l^est he should lose the tide, or the wind might shift to the east- 
ward. 

Square-built, hearty, and strong, with an odor of ocean about 
him, 

555 Speaking with this one and that, and cramming letters and 
parcels 
Into his pockets capacious, and messages mingled together 
Into his narrow brain, till at last he was wholly bewildered 
iNearer the boat stood Alden, with one foot placed on the gun- 
wale, ^ 

^«n ?"®. ^V'^ ^T °'' t^® ^°^^' ^"^^ talking at times with the sailors, 
560 Seated erect on the thwarts, all ready and eager for startin^^ 
He too was eager to go, and thus put an end to his anguish, '^ 
i hmking to fly from despair, that swifter than keel is or canvas, 
Ihinking to drown in the sea the ghost that would rise and 
pursue him. 

.«. £."* ^?- ^^ ^''?'''^ """^ *^^ ^^o^^^^' ^^e beheld the form of Priscilla 

565 f5tanding dejected among them, unconscious of all that was 
passing. 
Fixed were her eyes upon his, as if she divined his intention, 
Jb ixed vyith a look so sad, so reproachful, imploring, and patient, 
Ihat with a sudden revulsion his heart recoiled from its purpose, 

K7n cf "^ the verge of a crag, where one step more is destruction. 

570 Strange is the heart of man, with its quick, mysterious instincts! 
Strange is the life of man, and fatal or fated are moments, 
V\ hereupon turn, as on hinges, the gates of the wall adamantinel 



276 Narrative Poems of LongfeUoib 

"Here I remain!" he exclaimed, as he looked at the heavens 

above him, 
Thanking the Lord whose breath had scattered the mist and the 

TYl n ( 1 11 OSS 

575 Wherein, blind and lost, to death he was staggering headlong. 
"Yonder snow-white cloud that floats in the ether above me, 
Seems like a hand that is pointing and beckoning over the ocean. 
There is another hand, that is not so spectral and ghost-iike. 
Holding me, drawing me back, and clasping mme for protection. 

580 Float, O hand of cloud, and vanish away in the ether! 

Roll thyself up like a fist, to threaten and daunt nie; 1 heed not 
Either your warning or menace, or any omen of evil! 
There is no land so sacred, no air so pure and so wholesome, 
As is the air she breathes, and the soil that is pressed by her 
footsteps. . 

585 Here for her sake will I stay, and like an invisible presence 

Hover around her forever, protecting, supporting her weakness; 
Yes! as my foot was the first that stepped on this rock at the 

landinff 
So, with the blessing of God, shall it be the last at the leaving! " 

Meanwhile the Master alert, but with dignified air and im- 

590 Scanning'' with watchful eye the tide and the wind and the 

WalklT about on the sands; and the people crowded around him 
Saving a few last words, and enforcing his careful remembrance. 
Then, taking each by the hand, as if he were grasping a tiller, 
Into the boat he sprang, and in haste shoved oh to his vessel, 
595 Glad in his heart to get rid of all this worry and flurry, 

Glad to be gone from a land of sand and sickness and sorrow. 
Short allowance of victual, and plenty of nothing but Gospel! 
Lost in the sound of the oars was the last farewell ot the 1 il- 

O strong hearts and true! not one went back in the May FIowct! 
600 No, not one looked back, who had set his hand to this plough- 
ing! 

Soon were heard on board the shouts and songs of the sailors 
Heaving the windlass round, and hoisting the ponderous anchor. 
Then the yards were braced, and all sails set to the west- 
wind, 



The Courtfihip of Miles Standish 277 

Blowing steady and strong; and the May Flower sailed from the 
harbor, 

605 Rounded the point of the Gurnet, and leaving far to the south- 
ward 
Island and cape of sand, and the Field of the First Encounter, 
Took the wind on her quarter, and stood for the open Atlantic, 
Borne on the send of the sea, and the swelling hearts of the 
Pilgrims, 

Long in silence they watched the receding sail of the vessel, 
610 Much endeared to them all, as something hving and human; 
Then, as if filled with the spirit, and wrapt in a vision prophetic, 
Barmg his hoary head, the excellent Elder of Plymouth 
Said, '' Let us prayl " and they prayed and thanked the Lord and 

took courage. 
Mournfully sobbed the waves at the base of the rock, and above 
them 
615 Bowed and whispered the wheat on the hill of death, and their 
kindred 
Seemed to awake in their graves, and to join in the prayer that 

they uttered. 
Sun-illumined and white, on the eastern verge of the ocean 
Gleamed the departing sail, hke a marble slab in a graveyard; 
• Buried beneath it lay forever all hope of escaping. 
620 Lo! as they turned to depart, they saw the form of an Indian, 
Watching them from the hill; but while they spake with each 

other. 
Pointing with outstretched hands, and saying, "Look! " he had 

vanished. 
So they returned to their homes; but Alden lingered a little. 
Musing alone on the shore, and watching the wash of the bil- 
lows 
625 Round the base of the rock, and the sparkle and flash of the 
sunshine, 
Like the spirit of God, moving visibly over the waters. 

VI 

PRISCILLA 

Thus fcr a while he stood, and mused by the shore of the ocean, 
inmking of many things, and most of all of Priscilla; 



278 Narrative Poems of Longfellov^ 

And as if thought had the power to draw to itself, Hke the load- 
stone, , ., , e -J. ^ 

630 Whatsoever it touches, by subtile laws of Its nature, 

Lo! as he turned to depart, PrisciUa was standuig beside him. 

"Are you so much offended, you will not speak to me? "said |^ 

" Ani I^so much to blame, that yesterday, when you were plead- 

Warmfy the cause of another, my heart, impulsive and way- 

635 PleaSyour own, and spake out, forgetful perhaps of decorum? 
Certainly you can forgive me for speaking so frankly, for saying 
What I ought not to have said, yet now I can never unsay it; 
For there are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emo- 

That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble 
640 Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, 

Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together. 
Yesterday I was shocked, when I heard you speak of Miles btan- 

Praising' his virtues, transforming his very defects into virtues. 
Praising his courage and strength, and even his fighting in 
Flanders, , , ^^ r 

645 As if by fighting alone you could wm the heart of a woman - 
Quite ovedookfng yourself and the rest, in exalting your hero. 
Therefore I spake as I did, by an irresistible impulse. 
You will forgive me, I hope, for the sake of the friendship be- 
tween us, -1 1 1 I ^' 
Which is too true and too sacred to be so easily broken! 
650 Thereupon answered John Alden, the scholar, the friend of Miles 
Stand ish: 
" I was not angry with you, with myself alone 1 was angry, _ ^^ 
Seeing how badly I managed the matter I had in my keeping. 
"Nor interrupted the maiden, with answer prompt and cle- 

"NoT you are angry with me, for speaking so frankly and ! 
freely 
655 It was wrong, I acknowledge; for it is the fate of a woman 

Long to be patient and silent, to wait like a ghost that is speech- 

Till some questioning voice dissolves the spell of its silence. 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 279 

Hence is the inner life of so mai;y sufferino; women 

Sunless and silent and deep, like subterranean rivers 
660 Running through caverns of darkness, unheard, unseen, and 
unfruitful, 

Chafing their channels of stone, with endless and profitless mur- 
murs." 

Thereupon answered John Alden, the young man, the lover of 
women: 

"Heaven forbid it, Priscilla; and truly they seem to me always 

More like the beautiful rivers that watered the garden of Eden, 
665 More like the river Euphrates, through deserts of Havilah flow- 
ing, 

Filling the land with delight, and memories sweet of the gar- 
den!" 

"Ah, by these words, I can see," again interrupted the maiden, 

"How very little you prize me, or care for what I am saying. 

When from the depths of my heart, in pain and with secret 
misgivings, 
670 Frankly I speak to you, asking for sympathy only and kindness, 

Straightway you take up my words, that are plain and direct 
and in earnest. 

Turn them away from their meaning, and answer with flattering 
phrases. 

This is not right, is not just, is not true to the best that is in 
you; 

For I know and esteem you, and feel that your nature is noble, 
675 Lifting mine up to a higher, a more ethereal level. 

Therefore I value your friendship, and feel it perhaps the more 
keenly 

If you say aught that implies I am only as one among many, 

If you make use of those common and complimentary 
phrases 

Most men think so fine, in dealing and speaking with women, 
680 But which women reject as insipid, if not as insulting." 

Mute and amazed was Alden; and listened and looked at Pris- 
cilla, 
Thinking he never had seen her more fair, more divine in her 

beaut J''. 
He who but yesterday pleaded so glibly the cause of another, 
Stood there embarrassed and silent, and seeking in vain for an 
answer. 



280 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

685 So the maiden went on, and little divined or imagined 

What was at work in his heart, that made him so awkward 
and speechless. 

"Let us, then, be what we are, and speak what we think, and 
in all things 

Keep ourselves loyal to truth, and the sacred professions of 
friendship. 

It is no secret I tell you, nor am I a;jhamed to declare it: 
690 I have Hked to be with you, to see you, to speak with you always. 

So I was hurt at your words, and a little affronted to hear you 

Urge me to marry your friend, though he were the Captain Miles 
Standish. 

For I must tell you the truth: much more to me is your friend- 
ship 

Than all the love he could give, were he twice the hero you think 
him." 
695 Then she extended her hand, and Alden, who eagerly grasped it, 

Felt all the wounds in his heart, that were aching and bleeding 
so sorely. 

Healed by the touch of that hand, and he said, with a voice full 
of feeling: 

" Yes, Ave must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friend- 
ship 

Let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest! " 

700 Casting a farewell look at the glimmering sail of the May 
Flower, 

Distant, but still in sight, and sinking below the horizon, 

Homeward together they walked, with a strange, indefinite feel- 
ing, 

That all the rest had departed and left them alone in the desert. 

But, as they went through the fields in the blessing and smile 
of the sunshine, 
705 Lighter grew their hearts, and Priscilla said very archly: 

"Now that our terrible Captain has gone in pursuit of the 
Indians, 

Where he is happier far than he would be commanding a house- 
hold, 

You may speak boldly, and tell me of all that happened between 
you. 

When you returned last night, and said how ungrateful you 
found me." 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 281 

710 Thereupon answered John Alden, and told her the whole of the 
story,— 

Told her his own despair, and the direful wrath of Miles Stan- 
dish. 

Whereat the maiden smiled, and said between laughing and 
earnest, 

"He is a httle chimney, and heated hot in a moment! " 

But as he gently rebuked her, and told her how he had 
suffered, — 
715 How he had even determined to sail that day in the May Flower, 

And had remained for her sake, on hearing the dangers that 
threatened, — 

All her manner was changed, and she said with a faltering accent, 

"Truly I thank you for this: how good you have been to me 
always! " 

Thus, as a pilgrim devout, who toward Jerusalem journeys, 
720 Taking three steps in advance, and one reluctantly backward, 
Urged by importunate zeal, and withheld by pangs of contrition; 
SloAvly but steadily onward, receding yet ever advancing. 
Journeyed this Puritan youth to the Holy Land of his longings, 
Urged by the fervor of love, and withheld by remorseful mis- 
givings. 

VII 

THE MARCH OF MILES STANDISH 

725 Meanwhile the stalwart Miles Standish was marching steadily 
northward. 
Winding through forest and swamp, and along the trend of the 

sea-shore, 
All day long, with hardly a halt, the fire of his anger 
Burning and crackling within, and the sulphurous odor of pow^- 

der 
Seeming more sweet to his nostrils than all the scents of the 
forest. 
730 Silent and moody he went, and much he revolved his discomfort; 
He who was used to success, and to easy victories always, 
Thus to be flouted, rejected, and laughed to scorn by a maiden, 
Thus to be mocked and betrayed by the friend whom most he 
had trusted! 



282 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Ah! 't was too much to be borne, and he fretted and chafed in 
his armor! 

735 " I alone am to blame," he muttered, "for mine was the folly. 
What has a rough old soldier, grown grim and gray in the harness, 
Used to the camp and its ways, to do with the wooing of maid- 
ens? 
'T was but a dream, — let it pass, — let it vanish like so many 

others! 
What I thought was a flower, is only a weed, and is worthless; 
740 Out of my heart will I pluck it, and throw it away, and hence- 
forward 
Be but a fighter of battles, a lover and wooer of dangers! " 
Thus he revolved in his mind his sorry defeat and discomfort. 
While he was marching by day or lying at night in the forest, 
Looking up at the trees, and the constellations beyond them, 

745 After a three days' march he came to an Indian encampment 
Pitched on the edge of a meadow, between the sea and the forest; 
Women at work by the tents, and the warriors, horrid with war- 
paint, 
Seated about a fire, and smoking and talking together; 
Who, when they saw from afar the sudden approach of the white 

men, 
750 Saw the flash of the sun on breast-plate and sabre and musket, 
Straightway leaped to their feet, and two, from among them 

advancing, 
Came, to parley with Standish, and offer him furs as a present; 
Friendship was in their looks, but in their hearts there was 

hatred. 
Braves of the tribe were these, and brothers gigantic in stature, 
755 Huge as Goliath of Gath, or the terrible Og, king of Bashan; 
One was Pecksuot named, and the other was called Wattawa- 

mat. 
Round their necks were suspended their knives in scabbards of 

wampum, 
Two-edged, trenchant knives, with points as sharp as a needle. 
Other arms had they none, for they were cunning and crafty. 
760 "Welcome, English! " they said, — these words they had learned 

from the traders 
Touching at times on the coast, to barter and chaffer for peltries. 
Then in their native tongue they began to parley with Standish, 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 283 

Through his guide and interpreter, Hobomok, friend of the white 
man, 

Begging for blankets and knives, but mostly for muskets and 
powder, 
705 Kept by the white man, they said, concealed, with the plague, 
in his cellars. 

Ready to be let loose, and destroy his brother the red man! 

But when Standish refused, and said he would give them the 
Bible, 

Suddenly changing their tone, they began to boast and to blus- 
ter. 

Then Wattawamat advanced with a stride in front of the other, 
770 And, with a lofty demeanor, thus vauntingly spake to the Cap- 
tain: 

"Now Wattawamat can see, by the fiery eyes of the Captain, 

Angry is he in his heart; but the heart of the brave Wattawamat 

Is not afraid at the sight. He was not born of a woman, 

But on a mountain, at night, from an oak-tree riven by lightning, 
775 Forth he sprang at a bound, w4th all his weapons about him, 

Shouting, 'Who is there here to fight with the brave Watta- 
wamat?'" 

Then he unsheathed his knife, and, whetting the blade on his 
left hand. 

Held it aloft and displayed a woman's face on the handle. 

Saying, with bitter expression and look of sinister meaning: 
780 "I have another at home, with the face of a man on the handle; 

By and by they shall marry; and there will be plenty of chil- 
dren!" 

Then stood Pecksuot forth, self-vaunting, insulting Miles Stan- 
dish: 

While with his fingers he patted the knife that hung at his 
bosom, 

Drawing it half from its sheath, and plunging it back, as he 
muttered : 
785 "By and by it shall see; it shall eat; ah, ha! but shall speak 
not! 

This is the mighty Captain the white men have sent to destroy 
us! 

He is a little man; let him go and work with the women! " 

Meanwhile Standish had noted the faces and figures of Indians 



284 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Peeping and creeping about from bush to tree in the forest, 
790 Feigning to look for game, with arrows set on their bow-strings, 

Drawing about him still closer and closer the net of their ambush. 

But undaunted he stood, and dissembled and treated them 
smoothly; 

So the old chronicles say, that were writ in the days of the 
fathers. 

But when he heard their defiance, the boast, the taunt, and the 
insult, 
795 All the hot blood of his race, of Sir Hugh and of Thurston de 
Standish, 

Boiled and beat in his heart, and swelled in the veins of his tem- 
ples. 

Headlong he leaped on the boaster, and, snatching his knife 
from its scabbard, 

Plunged it into his heart, and, reeling backward, the savage 

Fell with his face to the sky, and a fiendlike fierceness upon it. 
800 Straight there arose from the forest the awful sound of the war- 
whoop, 

And, like a flurry of snow on the whistling wind of December, 

Swift and sudden and keen came a flight of feathery arrows. 

Then came a cloud of smoke, and out of the cloud came the 
lightning, 

Out of the lightning thunder; and death unseen ran before it. 
805 Frightened, the savages fled for shelter in swamp and in thicket, 

Hotly pursued and beset; but their sachem the brave Watta- 
wamat, 

Fled not; he was dead. Unswerving and swift had a bullet 

Passed through his brain, and he fell with both hands clutching 
the greensward 

Seeming in death to hold back from his foe the land of his fathers. 

810 There on the flowers of the meadow the warriors lay, and 
above them. 

Silent, with folded arms, stood Hobomok, friend of the white 
man. 

Smiling at length he exclaimed to the stalwart Captain of Ply- 
mouth : 

"Pecksuot bragged very loud, of his courage, his strength, and 
his stature, — 

Mocked the great Captain, and called him a little man; but I 
see now 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 285 

815 Big enough have you been to lay him speechless before you!" 

Thus the first battle was fought and won by the stalwart Miles 

Standish. , , ., -n c T>Ur 

When the tidings thereof were brought to the village ot i ly- 

mouth, , , ,^^ ,, . 

And as a trophy of war the head of the brave A\ attawamat 
Scowled from the roof of the fort, which at once was a church 
and a fortress, i j. i 

820 All who beheld it rejoiced, and praised the Lord, and took cour- 

Only Priscilla averted her face from this spectre of terror, 
Thanking God in her heart that she had not married Miles Stan- 
Shrinking, fearing almost, lest, coming home from his battles 
He should lay claim to her hand, as the prize and reward of his 
valor. 

VIII 

THE SPINNING-WHEEL 

825 Month after month passed away, and in Autumn the ships of 
the merchants - ,, 

Came with kindred and friends, with cattle and corn for the 

All in the village was peace ; the men were intent on their labors 
Busy with hewing and building, with garden-plot and with 

merestead, , . .i „„ :^ +v,o 

Busy with breaking the glebe, and mowing the grass m the 

830 SearSg'the'sea for its fish, and hunting the deer in the forest 
AlMn the village was peace; but at times the rumor of warfare 
Filled the air with alarm, and the apprehe^ision of danger 
Bravely the stalwart Standish was scouring the land with his 

£orc6*s • 

Waxing valiant in fight and defeating the alien armies, 

835 Till his'name had become a sound of fear to the nations 

Anger was still in his heart, but at times the remorse and con- 

Which in all noble natures succeed the passionate outbreak, 
Came hke a rising tide, that encounters the rush of a river, 



286 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Staying its current awhile, but making it bitter and brackish. 

840 Meanwhile Alden at home had built him a new habitation, 

Solid, substantial, of timber rough-hewn from the firs of the 
forest. 

Wooden-barred was the door, and the roof was covered with 
rushes; 

Latticed the windows were, and the window-panes were of 
paper, 

Oiled to admit the light, while wind and rain were excluded. 
845 There too he dug a well, and around it planted an orchard: 

Still may be seen to this day some trace of the well and the 
orchard. 

Close to the house was the stall, where, safe and secure from an- 
noyance, 

Raghorn, the snow-white bull, that had fallen to Alden's allot- 
ment 

In the division of cattle, might ruminate in the night-time 
850 Over the pastures he cropped, made fragrant by sweet penny- 
royal. 

Oft when his labor was finished, with eager feet would the 
dreamer 
Follow the pathway that ran through the woods to the house of 

Priscilla, 
Led by illusions romantic and subtile deceptions of fancy. 
Pleasure disguised as duty, and love in the semblance of friend- 
ship. 
855 Ever of her he thought, when he fashioned the walls of his dwell- 
. ing; 
Ever of her he thought, when he delved in the soil of his garden; 
Ever of her he thought, when he read in his Bible on Sunday 
Praise of the virtuous woman, as she is described in the Prov- 
erbs, — 
How the heart of her husband doth safely trust in her always, 
860 How all the days of her life she will do him good, and not evil. 
How she seeketh the wool and the flax and worketh with glad- 
ness. 
How she layeth her hand to the spindle and holdeth the distaff. 
How she is not atrnid of the snow for iierself or her household, 
Knowing her household are clothed with the scarlet cloth of her 
weaving! 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 287 

865 So as she sat at her wheel one afternoon in the Autumn, 

Alden, who opposite sat, and was watching her dexterous fingers 

As if the thread she was spinning were that of his life and his 
fortune, 

After a pause in their talk, thus spake to the sound of the spindle. 

"Truly, Priscilla," he said, "when I see you spinning and spin- 
ning, 
870 Never idle a moment, but thrifty and thoughtful of others. 

Suddenly you are transformed, are visibly changetl in a moment; 

You are no longer Priscilla, but Bertha the Beautiful Spinner." 

Here the light foot on the treadle grew swifter and swifter; the 
spindle 

Uttered an angry snarl, and the thread snapped short in her 
fingers; 
875 While the impetuous speaker, not heeding the mischief, con- 
tinued: 

"You are the beautiful Bertha, the spinner, the queen of Hel- 
vetia; 

She whose story I read at a stall in the streets of Southampton, 

Who, as she rode on her palfrey, o'er valley and meadow and 
mountain, 

Ever was spinning her thread from a distaff fixed to her saddle. 
880 She was so thrifty and good, that her name passed into a proveib. 

So shall it be with your own, when the s}Mnning-wheel shall no 
longer 

Hum in the house of the farmer, and fill its chambers with music. 

Then shall the mothers, reproving, relate how it was in their 
childhood. 

Praising the good old times, and the days of Priscilla the spin- 
ner! " 
885 Straight uprose from her wheel the beautiful Puritan maiden, 

Pleased with the praise of her thrift from him whose praise was 
the sweetest, 

Drew from the reel on the table a snowy skein of her spinning, 

Thus making answer meanwhile, to the flattering phrases of 
Alden: 

"Come, you must not be idle; if I am a pattern for housewives, 
890 Show yourself equally worthy of being the model of husbands. 

Hold this skein on your hands, while I wind it, ready for knit- 
ting; 

Then who knows but hereafter, when fashions have changed and 
the manners, 



^8S !^arratwe Poems of Longfellow 

Fathers may talk to their sons of the good old times of John 

Alden!" 
Thus, with a jest and a laugh, the skein on his hands she ad- 
justed, 
895 He sitting av^kwardly there, with his arms extended before him, 
She standing graceful, erect, and winding the thread from his 

fingers. 
Sometimes chiding a little his clumsy manner of holding, 
Sometimes touching his hands, as she disentangled expertly 
Twist or knot in the yarn, unawares — for how could she help 
it?— 
900 Sending eleptrical thrills through every nerve in his body. 

Lo! in the midst of this scene, a breathless messenger entered, 

Bringing in hurry and heat the terrible news from the village. 

Yes; Miles Standish was dead! — an Indian had brought them 
the tidings, — 

Slain by a poisoned arrow, shot down in the front of the battle, 
905 Into an ambush beguiletl, cut off with the whole of his forces; 

All the town would be burned, and all the people be murdered! 

Such were the tidings of evil that burst on the hearts of the 
hearers. 

Silent and statue-like stood Priscilla, her face looking backward 

Still at the face of the speaker, her arms uplifted in horror; 
910 But John Alden, upstarting, as if the barb of the arrow 

Piercing the heart of his friend had struck his own, and had 
sundered 

Once and forever the bonds that held him bound as a captive. 

Wild with excess of sensation, the awful delight of his freedom. 

Mingled with pain and regret, unconscious of what he was doing, 
915 Clasped, almost with a groan, the motionless form of Priscilla, 

Pressing her close to his heart, as forever his own, and exclaim- 
ing: 

"Those whom the Lord hath united, let no man put them asun- 
der! " 

Even as rivulets twain, from distant and separate sources, 
Seeing each other afar, as they leap from the rocks, and pursu- 
ing 
920 Each one its devious path, but drawing nearer and nearer, 
Rush together at last, at their trysting-place in the forest; 
So these lives that had run thus far in separate channels, 



The Courtship of Miles Standish 289 

Coming in sight of each other, then swerving and flowing asun- 
der, , . , 
Parted by barriers strong, but drawing nearer and nearer, 
925 Rushed together at last, and one was lost in the other. 

IX 

THE W'EDDING-DAY 

Forth from the curtain of clouds from the tent of purple and 

scarlet, . , . - i 

Issued the sun, the great High-Priest, in his garments resplen- 

Hohne^s unto the Lord, in letters of light, on his forehead, 
Round the hem of his robe the golden bells and pomegranates 
930 Blessing the world he came, and the bars of vapor beneath him 
Gleamed like a grate of brass, and the sea at his feet was a laver! 

This was the wedding morn of Priscilla the Puritan maiden. 

Friends were assembled together; the Elder and Magistrate also 

Graced the scene with their presence, and stood like the Law 

and the Gospel, . , .i u i • e 

935 One with the sanction of earth and one w.th the blessing of 

SimpleTnd brief was the wedding, as that of Ruth and of Boaz. 
Softly the youth and the maiden repeated the words of betrothal, 
Taking each other for husband and wife in the Magistrate s 

After^thrPuritan way, and the laudable custom of Holland. 
940 Fervently then, and devoutly, the excellent E der of Plymouth 
Prayed for the hearth and the home, that were founded that day 

in affection, ,. . , ,. ,. 

Speaking of life and of death, and imploring divine benedictions. 

Lo! when the service was ended, a form appeared on the 
threshold, „ , 

Clad in armor of steel, a sombre and sorrowful hgure! 
945 Why does the bridegroom start and stare at the strange appari- 

Why dJI^s the bride turn pale, and hide her face on his shoulder? 
Is it a phantom of air,— a bodiless, spectral illusion . 



290 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Is it a ghost from the grave, that has come to forbid the f! 
betrothal? 1 

Long had it stood there imseen, a guest uninvited, unwelcomed; 
950 Over its clouded eyes there had passed at times an expression i| 
Softening the gloom and revealing the warm heart hidden be- 
neath them. 
As when across the sky the driving rack of the rain-cloud 
Grows for a moment thin, and betrays the sun by its brightness. 
Once it had lifted its hand, and moved its lips, but was silent, 
955 As if an iron will had mastered the fleeting intention. 

But when were ended the troth and the prayer and the last 

benediction, 
Into the room it strode, and the people beheld with amazement 
Bodily there in his armor Miles Standish, the Captain of Ply- 
mouth! 
Grasping the bridegroom's hand, he said with emotion, " Forgive 
me! 
960 I have been angry and hurt, — too long have I cherished the 
feeling; 
I have been cruel and hard, but now, thank God! it is ended. 
Mine is the same hot blood that leaped in the veins of Hugh 

Standish, 
Sensitive, swift to resent, but as swift in atoning for error. 
Never so much as now was Miles Standish the friend of John 
Alden." 
965 Thereupon answered the bridegroom: ''Let all be forgotten be- 
tween us,— 
All save the dear, old friendship, and that shall grow older and i 

dearer! " 
Then the Captain advanced, and, bowing, saluted Priscilla, 
Gravely, andafterthemannerof old-fashioned gentry in England, 
Something of camp and of court, of town and of country, com- 
mingled, 
970 Wishing her joy of her wedding, and loudly lauding her husband. 
Then he said with a smile: "I should have remembered the 

adage, — 
If you would be well served, you must serve yourself; and more- 
over. 
No man can gather cherries in Kent at the season of Christmas! " 

Great was the people's amazement, and greater yet their re- 
joicing, 



The Court fthip of M/'/c.s Stand ifh 291 

975 Thus to behold once more the sunburnt face of their Captain, 

Whom they had mourned as dead; and they gathered and 
crowded about him, * 

Eager to see him and hear him, forgetful of bride and of bride- 
groom. 

Questioning, answering, laughing, and each interrupting the 
other. 

Till the good Captain declared, being quite overpowered and be- 
wilciered, 
980 He had rather by far break into an Indian encampment. 

Than come again to a wedding to which he had not been invited. 

Meanwhile the bridegroom went forth and stood with the 
bride at the doorway, 
Breathing the perfumed air of that warm and beautiful morning. 
Touched with autumnal tints, but lonely and sad in the sun- 
shine, 
985 Lay extended before them the land of toil and privation; 

There were the graves of the dead, and the barren waste of the 

seashore. 
There the familiar fields, the groves of pine, and the meadows; 
But to their eyes transfigured, it seemed as the Garden of Eden, 
Filled with the presence of God, whose voice was the sound of the 
ocean. 

990 Soon was their vision disturbed by the noise and stir of de- 
parture. 

Friends coming forth from the house, and impatient of longer 
delaying, 

Each with his plan for the day, and the work that was left un- 
completed. 

Then from a stall near at hand, amid exclamations of wonder, 

Alden the thoughtful, the careful, so happy, so proud of Priscilla, 
995 Brought out his snow-white bull, obeying the hand of its master. 

Led by a cord that was tied to an iron ring in its nostrils. 

Covered with crimson cloth, and a cushion placed fcr a saddle. 

She should not walk, he said, through the dust and heat of the 
noonday; 

Nay, she should ride like a queen, not plod along like a peasant. 
000 Somewhat alarmed at first, but reassured by the others. 

Placing her hand on the cushion, her foot in the hand of her hus- 
band, 



292 Narrative Pnemfi of Lowifellow 

Gayly, with joyous laugh, Priscilla mounted her palfrey. 
"Nothing is wanting now," he said with a smile, "but the | 

distaff; 
Then you w^ould be in truth my queen, my beautiful Bertha! " 

1 005 Onward the bridal procession now moved to their new habita- 
tion. 

Happy husband and wife, and friends conversing together. 

Pleasantly murmured the brook, as they crossed the ford in the 
forest, 

Pleased with the image that passed like a dream of love through 
its bosom, 

Tremulous, floating in air, o'er the depths of the azure abysses. 
1010 Down through the golden leaves the sun was pouring his splen- 
dors. 

Gleaming on purple grapes, that, from branches above them 
suspended. 

Mingled their odorous breath with the balm of the pine and the 
fir-tree. 

Wild and sweet as the clusters that grew in the valley of Eshcol. 

Like a picture it seemed of the primitive, pastoral ages, ) 

1015 Fresh with the youth of the world, and recalling Rebecca and j 

Isaac, j 

Old and yet ever new, and simple and beautiful always, \ 

Love immortal and young in the endless succession of lovers. j 

So through the Plymouth woods passed onward the bridal pro- ; 
cession. ,1 



INTRODUCTION TO TALES OF A 
WAYSIDE INN 

The Tales of a Wayside Inn appeared in three sepa- 
rate parts and at considerable intervals. The Tales of 
the First Day appeared in November, 1863; the Second 
Day formed a conspicuous part of the volume called 
Three Books of Song, published in 1872; the Third Day 
appeared with Aftermath in 1873, completed on the 
poet's sixty-sixth birthday. The plan of writing a series 
of tales, supposedly told by the guests at an inn, did not 
suggest itself to Longfellow until after several of the 
poems had been published separately; "Paul Reve^e's 
Ride," a lyric forming a part of the "Saga of King Olaf," 
and the "Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi," had appeared in 
the "Atlantic Mojithly" some time before the first part 
was published in book form. 

The device of putting a series of tales into the mouths 

of a group of characters is an old one in literature, the 

most notable examples being Boccaccio's 

r. , Decameron in Italian, and Chaucer's Can- 

Jtramework \ 

terhury Tales in English; Whittier's The 
Tent on the Beach, published several years after the 
first part of Longfellow's collection, follows the same plan. 
The fact that Longfellow originally called his work The 

293 



204 Narrative Poems of I jong fellow 

Sudburi/ Tales suggests Chaucer at once, and it is not 
unlikely that the similarity of titles accounts for the 
change to Tales of a Wayside Inn, a change made while 
the volume was in press. It will be conceded that the 
latter title is more felicitous as well as more original. 
Such a framework accommodates itself to leisurely ex- 
pansion and lends itself admirably to the genius of a ver- 
satile writer like Longfellow. 

The little town of Sudbury is situated about twenty 
miles west of Cambridge. In the old days it was only an 

inn for the accommodation of stage 
g , . coach travellers westward. Shortly 

after the publication of Part First, 
the poet v/rote to a friend in England: 

' ' TJie Wayside Inn has more foundation in fact than 
you may suppose. The town of Sudbury is about twenty 
miles from Cambridge, Some two hundred years ago, 
an English family, by the name of Howe, built there 
a country house, which has remained in the family down 
to the present time, the last of the race dying but two 
years ago. Losing their fortune, they became inn- 
keepers; and for a century the Red-Horse Inn has flour- 
ished, going down from father to son. The place is just 
as I described it, though no longer an inn." 

There is an entry in the poet's journal for October 

31, 1862, bearing upon his preparation for writing the 

Prelude. 

"October ends with a delicious Indian-summer day. 
Drive with Fields to the old Red-Horse Tavern in Sud- 
bury, — alas, no longer an inn. A lovely valley; the 



Introdiiclion to Tales of n Wayside Inn 295 

winding road shaded by grand old oaks before the house. 
A rambHng, tumble-down old building, two hundred 
years old, and till now in the family of the Howes, who 
have kept an inn for one hundred and seventy-five years. 
In the old time, it was a house of call for all travellers 
from Boston westward." 

The vivid autumn touches in the Prelude are undoubt- 
edly due to the impressions made by this visit. 

The characters to whom the stories are attributed 
have the same dehniteness as thv' setting. In the letter 

above referred to, Lonsjfellow asserted 

The 

^, , that they were all real. Though he 

Characters -^ i i. i i- 

nowhere gave the complete list, the dis- 
guises were so slight that his friends easily traced out 
the originals. The poet was Tliomas W. Parsons, who is 
favorably known for his rhymed translation of parts of 
Dante's Divina Commedia; the Sicilian was Luigi ^Nlonti. 
Longfellow's intimate friend, an exile from Sicily, who, 
as a naturalized citizen of the United States, went back 
to Palermo as consul; the Theologian was Daniel Tread- 
well, Professor of Physics in Harvard College, who had 
also a great interest in theology. These three friends. 
Parsons, Monti, and Treadwell, often spent the summer 
months together at the Sudbury Inn, — a fact that adds 
more reality to the setting. The Musician was Ole Bull, 
the famous Norwegian violinist; the Student w^as a young 
Harvard scholar, Henry Ware Wales, whose early death 
ended a life of promise; the Spanish Jew was an Oriental 
merchant of Boston whom the poet knew and painted as 



296 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

he knew him. The Landlord may have been a creation, 
though his description is in keeping with the family in 
whose hands the inn had formerly been. In a small 
way, the characters are just as representative as Chaucer's 
"nine and twenty pilgrims." 

The varied character of the group brought together 
at the Wayside Inn gave the poet a wide range in the 

choice of subject matter for his tales. 
The The Norwegian Musician gave him a 

Tales means of introducing his Norse Saga, 

which had been written three years 
prior to the Prelude. The Jew afforded him opportunity 
for drawing upon that great source of interest and inspi- 
ration, the Talmud, to which his friend Scherb had in- 
troduced him. And so with the other characters, — the 
tales they tell are characteristic of the narrators. This 
gives the plan unity and consistency, and affords the variety 
so much needed in such a series. The source and history 
of each of the tales will be found in the Notes. 

The merits of the several tales vary almost as widely 
as the subject matter Some of the stories, such as "The 
Falcon of Ser Federigo," "Torquemada," "Charlemagne," 
and "Emma and Eginhard," borrowings from older litera- 
tures, gain nothing by the retelling; some of them, indeed, 
seem to have been written merely for the sake of round- 
ing out the series. On the other hand, the general Pre-^ 
lude,*and the Preludes to the separate tales, take rank 
with the best of the poet's work; and some of the tales 



Introduction to Tales of a Wayside hui 297 

are as charming as the character-sketches of those who 
are supposed to tell them. "Paul Revere" has the spirit, 
the dash, the simplicity of a ballad. Nothing could be 
better done than "The Legend Beautiful," "King Robert 
of Sicily," and "The Birds of Killingworth," the last 
named being the most original of the entire series. 

In the main, the Tales of a Wayside Inn show an obvious 
decline of creative ability, but they possess the general 
characteristics of style that make Longfellow's works 
deservedly popular. The characters are well-drawn and 
the narratives arc spirited. In a critical estimate of the 
Tales of a Wayside Inn, Stedman writes with his usual 
insight : 

"With Longfellow's lyrical facility of putting a story 
into rippling verse, almost as lightly as another would 
tell it in prose, we find ourselves assured of as many 
poems as he had themes. [The excellence of his narra- 
tive] is due to a modern and natural style, the sweet 
variety of measures, and to his ease in dialogue. 
Longfellow's frequent gayety and constant sense of the 
humanities make him a true story-teller for the multi- 
tude."i 

»Poets of America. 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 
PRELUDE 

THE WAYSIDE INN 

One Autumn night, in Sudbury town, 
Across the meadows bare and brown, 
The windows of the wayside inn 
Gleamed red with fire-Hght through the leaves 
5 Of woodbine, hanging from the eaves 

Their crimson curtains rent and thin. 

As ancient is this hostelry 

As any in the land may be. 

Built in the old Colonial day, 
10 When men lived in a grander way, 

With ampler hospitahty; 

A kind of old Hobgobhn Hall, 

Now somewhat fallen to decay, 

With weather-stains upon the wall, 
15 And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 

And creaking and uneven floors. 

And chimneys huge, and tiled and tall. 

A region of repose it seems, 

A place of slumber and of tlreams, 

20 Remote among the wooded hills! 

For there no noisy railway speeds. 
Its torch-race scattering smoke and gleeds; 
But noon and night, the panting teams 
Stop under the great oaks, that throw 

25 Tangles of light and shade below. 

On roofs and doors and window-sills. 
Across the road the barns display 
Their lines of stalls, their mows of hay, 
Through the wide doors the l)rcezcs l)low, 

298 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 299 

30 The wattled cocks strut to and fro, 

And, half effaced by rain and shine, 
The Red Horse prances on the sign. 
Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode 
Deep silence reigned, save when a gust 

35 Went rushing down the county road, 

And skeletons of leaves, and dust, 
A moment quickened by its breath. 
Shuddered and danced their dance of death. 
And through the ancient oaks o'erhead 

40 Mysterious voices moaned and fled. 

But from the parlor of the inn 

A pleasant murmur smote the ear, 

Like water rushing through a weir; 

Oft interrupted by the din 
45 Of laughter and of loud applause, 

And, in each intervening pause, 

The music of a violin. 

The fire-light, shedding over all 

The splendor of its ruddy glow, 
50 Filled the whole parlor large and low; 

It gleamed on wainscot and on wall. 

It touched with more than wonted grace 

Fair Princess Mary's pictured face; 

It bronzed the rafters overhead, 
55 On the old spinet's ivory keys 

It played inaudible melodies. 

It crowned the sombre clock with flame, 

The hands, the hours, the maker's name, 

And painted with a livelier red 
60 The Landlord's coat-of-arms again; 

And, flashing on the window pane, 

Emblazoned with its light and shade 

The jovial rhymes, that still remain. 

Writ near a century ago, 
65 By the great Major Molineaux, 

AVhom Hawthorne has immortal made. 

Before the blazing fire of wood 
Erect the rapt musician stood; 
And ever and anon he bent 



300 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

70 His head upon his instrument, 

And seemed to hsten, till he caught 
Confessions of its secret thought, — 
The joy the triumph, the lament, 
The exultation and the pain; 

75 Then, by the magic of his art. 

He soothed the throbbings of its hsavc. 
And lulled it into peace again. 

Around the fireside. at their ease 
There sat a group of friends, entranced 

80 With the delicious melodies; 

Who from the far-off noisy town 
Had to the wayside inn come down, 
To rest beneath its old oak-trees. 
The fire-light on their faces glanced, 

85 Their shadows on the wainscot danced, 

And, though of different lands and speech, 
Each had his tale to tell, and each 
Was anxious to be pleased and please. 
And while the sweet musician plays, 

90 Let me in outline sketch them all. 

Perchance uncouthly as the blaze 
With its uncertain touch portrays 
Their shadowy semblance on the wall. 

But first the Landlord will I trace; 
95 Grave in his aspect and attire; 

A man of ancient pedigree, 
A Justice of the Peace was he, 
Known in all Sudbury as ''The Squire." 
Proud was he of his name and race, 

100 Of old Sir William and Sir Hugh, 

And in the parlor, full in view. 
His coat-of-arms, well framed and^glazed, 
Upon the wall in colors blazed; 
He beareth gules upon his shield, 

105 A chevron argent in the field, 

With three wolf's heads, and for the crest 
A Wyvern part-per-pale addressed 
Upon a helmet barred; below 
The scroll reads, ^'By the name of Howe." 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 301 

110 And over this, no longer bright, 

Though glimmering with a latent light, 
Was hung the sword his grandsire bore, 
In the rebellious days of yore, 
Down there at Concord in the fight. 

115 A youth was there, of quiet ways, 

A Student of old books and days, 

To whom all tongues and lands were known. 

And 3^et a lover of his own; 

With many a social virtue graced, 
120 And yet a friend of solitude; 

A man of such a genial mood 

The heart of all things he embraced. 

And yet of such fastidious taste. 

He never found the best too good. 
125 Books were his passion and delight, 

And in his upper room at home 

Stood many a rare and sumptuous tome, 

In vellum bound, with gold bedight, 

Great volumes garmented in white, 
130 Recalling Florence, Pisa, Rome. 

He loved the twilight that surrounds 

The border-land of old romance; 

Where glitter hauberk, helm, and lance. 

And banner waves, and trumpet sounds, 
135 And ladies ride with hawk on wrist, 

And mighty warriors sweep along. 

Magnified by the purple mist. 

The dusk of centuries and of song. 

The chronicles of Charlemagne, 
140 Of Merlin and the Mort d'Arthure, 

Mingled together in his brain 

With tales of Flores and Blanchefleur, 

Sir Ferumbras, Sir Eglamour, 

Sir Launcelot, Sir Morgadour, 
145 Sir Guy, Sir Bevis, Sir Gawain. 

A young Sicilian, too, was there; 
In sight of Etna born and bred. 
Some breath of its volcanic air 
Was glowing in his heart and brain, 



302 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

150 And being rebellious to his liege, 

After Palermo's fatal siege, 
Across the western seas he fled, 
In good King Bomba's happy reign. 
His face was like a summer night, 

155 All flooded with a dusky light; 

His hands were small; his teeth shone whitt 
As sea-shells, when he smiled or spoke; 
His sinews supple and strong as oak; 
Clean shaven was he as a priest, 

100 AVho at the mass on Sunday sings, 

Save that upon his upper lip 
His beard, a good palm's length at least. 
Level and pointed at the tip. 
Shot sideways, like a swallow's wings. 

165 The poets read he o'er and o'er. 

And most of all the Immortal Four 
Of Italy; and next to those, 
The story-telling bard of prose. 
Who wrote the joyous Tuscan tales 

170 Of the Decameron, that make 

Fiesole's green hills and vales 
Remembered for Boccaccio's sake. 
Much too of music was his thought; 
The melodies and measures fraught 

175 With sunshine and the open air. 

Of vineyards and the singing sea 
Of his beloved Sicily; 
And much it pleased him to peruse 
The songs of the Sicilian muse, — 

180 Bucolic songs by Meli sung 

In the familiar peasant tongue. 
That made men say, "Behold! once more 
The pitying gods to earth restore 
Theocritus of Syracuse! " 

185 A Spanish Jew from Alicant 

With aspect grand and grave was tliere; 
Vender of silks and fabrics rare. 
And attar of rose from the Levant, 
like an old Patriarch he appeared, 

190 Abraham or Isaac, or at least 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 303 

Some later Prophet or High-Priest; 

With lustrous eyes, and olive skin, 

And, wildly tossed from cheeks and chin, 

The tumbling cataract of his beard. 

His garments breathed a spicy scent 

Of cinnamon and sandal blent, 

Like the soft aromatic gales 

That meet the mariner, who sails 

Through the Moluccas, and the seas 

That wash the shores of Celebes. 

All stories that recorded are 

By Pierre Alphonse he knew by heart. 

And it was rumored he could say 

The parables of Sandabar, 

x\nd all the Fables of Pilpay, 

Or if not all, the greater part! 

Well versed was he in Hebrew books, 

Talmud and Targum, and the loi-e 

Of Kabala; and evermore 

There was a mystery in his looks; 

His eyes seemed gazing far away, 

As if in vision or in trance 

He heard the solemn sackbut play, 

And saw the Jewish maidens dance. 

A Theologian, from the school 
Of Cambridge on the Charles, was there; 
Skilful alike with tongue and pen, 
Ho preached to all men everywhere 
The Gospel of the Golden Rule, 
The New Commandment given to men, 
Thinking the deed, and not the creed, 
Would help us in our utmost need. 
With reverent feet the earth he trod. 
Nor banished nature from his plan, 
But studied still with deep research 
To build the Universal Church, 
Lofty as is the love of God, 
And ample as the wants of man. 

A Poet, too, was there, whose verse 
Was tender, musical, and terse; 



304 Narrative Poems of Longfelloiv \ 

The inspiration, the dehght, I 

The gleam, the glory, the swift flight, \ 

Of thoughts so sudden, that they seem j 

The revelations of a dream, 

235 All these were his; but with them came l 

No envy of another's fame; , 

He did not find his sleep less sweet 
For music in some neighboring street, 
Nor rustling hear in every breeze 

240 The laurels of Miltiades. \ 

Honor and blessings on his head i 

While living, good report when dead, \ 

Who, not too eager for renown, I 

Accepts, but does not clutch, the crownl 

245 Last the Musician, as he stood j 

Illumined by that fire of wood; ^ 

Fair-haired, blue-eyed, his aspect blithe, | 

His figure tall and straight and lithe, I 

And every feature of his face '' 

250 Revealing his Norwegian race; ; 

A radiance, streaming from within, i 
Around his eyes and forehead beamed, 

The Angel with the violin, \ 

Painted by Raphael, he seemed. I 

255 He lived in that ideal world | 

Whose language is not speech, but song; ] 

Around him evermore the throng ■ 
Of elves and sprites their dances whirled; 
The Stromkarl sang, the cataract hurled 

260 Its headlong waters from the height; i 

And mingled in the wild delight 

The scream of sea-birds in their flight, i 

The rumor of the forest trees, I 
The plunge of the implacable seas, _ j 

265 The tumult of the wind at night, " i 

Voices of eld, like trumpets blowing, '■ 
Old ballads, and wild melodies 

Through mist and darkness pouring forth, | 

Like Elivagar's river flowing < 

270 Out of the glaciers of the North. 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 305 

The instrument on which he played 

Was in Cremona's workshops made, 

By a great master of the past, 

Ere yet was lost the art divine; 

Fashioned of maple and of pine, 

That in Tyrolian forests vast 

Had rocked and wrestled with the blast: 

Exquisite was it in design, 

Perfect in each minutest part, 

A marvel of the lutist's art; 

And in its hollow chamber, thus, 

The maker from whose hands it came 

Had written his unrivalled name, — 

"Antonius Stradivarius." 

And when he played, the atmosphere 
Was filled with magic, and the ear 
Caught echoes of that Harp of Gold, 
Whose music had so weird a sound, 
The hunted stag forgot to bound, 
The leaping rivulet backward rolled, 
The birds came down from bush and tree, 
The dead came from beneath the sea, 
The maiden to the harper's knee! 

The music ceased; the applause was loud. 
The pleased musician smiled and bowed; 
The wood-fire clapped its hands of flame. 
The shadows on the wainscot stirred, 
And from the harpsichord there came 
A ghostly murmur of acclaim, 
A sound like that sent dov\'n at night 
By birds of passage in their flight, 
From the remotest distance heard. 

Then silence followed; then began 
A clamor for the Landlord's tale, — 
The story promised them of old, 
They said, but always left untold; 
And he, although a bashful man, 
And all his courage seemed to fail. 
Finding excuse of no avail, 
Yielded; and thus the story ran. 



I-500 Xarrafivf: Poems of LongjeUo'W 

THE LANDLORD'S TALE j 

PAUL REVERE S RIDE 

Listen, my children, and you shall hear : 

Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, ; 

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; | 

Hardly a man is now alive I 

5 Who remembers that famous day and year. : 

He said to his friend, " If the British march 

By land or sea from the town to-night, ■ 

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch 

Of the North Church tower as a signal light, — j 

10 One, if by land, and two, if by sea; i 

And I on the opposite shore will be, i 

Ready to ride and spread the alarm .1 
Through every Middlesex village and farm, 

For the country-folk to be up and to arm." j 

'1 

15 Then he said, "Good night!" and with muffled oar • 

Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, ! 

Just as the moon rose over the bay, : 

Where swinging wide at her moorings lay ' 

The Somerset, British man-of-war; j 

20 A phantom ship, with each mast and spar ! 

Across the moon like a prison bar, 1 

And a huge l)lack hulk, tliat was magnified " 

]3y its own refl(^ction in the tide. ; 

Meanwhile, h!s friend, through alley and street, ; 

25 Wanders and watches with eager ears, 
Till in the silence around him he hears 
The muster of men at the barrack door, 
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet, 

And the measured tread of the grenadiers, •; 

30 Marching down to their boats on the shore. i 

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church, 
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread, 

To the belfry-chamber overhead, i 

And startled the pigeons from their perch I 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 307 

35 On the sombre rafters, that round him made 

Masses and moving shapes of shade, — 

By the trembling ladder, steep and tall, 

To the highest window in the wall. 

Where he paused to listen and look down 
40 A moment on the roofs of the town. 

And the moonlight flowing over all. 

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead, 

In their night-encampment on the hill, 

Wrapped in silence so deep and still 
45 That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread, 

The watchful night-wind, as it went 

Creeping along from tent to tent. 

And seeming to whisper, "All is well! '* 

A moment only he feels the spell 
50 Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreatl 

Of the lonely belfry and the dead; 

For suddenly all his thoughts are bent 

On a shadowy something far away, 

Where the river widens to meet the bay, — 
55 A line of black that bends and floats 

On the rising tide, like a bridge of boats. 

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride, 

Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride 

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere. 
60 "Now he patted his horse's side. 

Now gazed at the landscape far and near, 

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth. 

And turned and tightened his saddle-girth; 

But mostly he watched with eager search 
65 The belfry-tower of the Old North Church, 

As it rose above the graves on the hill, 

Lonely and spectral and sombre and still. 

And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height 

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light! 
70 He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns, 

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight 

A second lamp in the belfry burns! 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street. 



308 Narrative Poems of Longfelhnv 

• 
A shape in the moonhght, a bulk in the dark, 

75 And beneath, from tlie pebbles, in passing, a spark 
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet; 
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light, 
The fate of a nation was riding that night; 
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 

SO Kindled the land into flame with its heat. 

He has left the village and mounted the steep, 
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep, 
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides; 
And under the alders, that skirt its edge, 
85 Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge, 
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides. 

It was twelve by the village clock 
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town. 
He heard the crowing of the cock, 
90 And the barking of the farmer's dog, 
And felt the damp of the river fog, 
That rises after the sun goes down. 

It was one by the village clock, 
When he galloped into Lexington. 
95 He saw the gilded weathercock 

Swim in the moonlight as he passed, 
And the meeting-house windows, blank and l^are, 
Gaze at him with a spectral glare, 
As if they already stood aghast 
100 At the bloody work they would look upon. 

It was two by tlie village clock, 

When he came to the bridge in Concord town. 

He heard the bleating of the flock. 

And the twitter of birds among the trees, 

105 And felt the breath of the morning breeze 
Blowing over the meadows brown. 
And one was safe and asleep in his bed 
Who at the bridge would be first to fall, 
Who that day would be lying d(^ad, 

110 Pierced by a British musket-ljall. 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 309 

You know the rest. In the books you have read, 
How the British Regulars fired and fled,— 
How the farmers gave them ball for ball, 
From behind each fence and farmyard wall, 
115 Chasing the red-coats down the lane, 

Then crossing the fields to emerge again 
Under the trees at the turn of the road, 
And only pausing to fire and load. 

So through the night rode Paul Revere; 

120 And so through the night went his cry of alarm 
To every ]\Iiddlesex village and farm, — 
A cry of defiance and not of fear, 
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door. 
And a word that shall echo forevermore! 

125 For, borne on the night-wind of the Past, 
Through all our history, to the last, 
In the hour of darkness and peril and need. 
The people will waken and listen to hear 
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed, 

130 And the midnight message of Paul Revere. 



INTERLUDE 

The Landlord ended thus his tale, 
Then rising took down from its nail 
The sword that hung there, dim with dust, 
And cleaving to its sheath with rust, 
5 And said, "This sword was in the fight." 

The Poet seized it, and exclaimed, 
"It is the sword of a good knight, 
Though homespun was his coat-of-mail; 
What matter if it be not named 

10 Joyeuse, Colada, Durindale, 

Excalibur, or Aroundight, 
Or other name the books record? 
Your ancestor, who bore this sword 
As Colonel of the Volunteers, 

15 Mounted upon his old gray mare, 

Seen here and there and everywhere, 
To me a grander shape appears 



310 Nnrrrttive Poenifi oj Lnvgfelhv 

Than old Sir William, or what not, ^ 

Clinking about in foreign lands 1 

20 With iron gauntlets on his hands, 

And on his head an iron pot! " 

All laughed; the Landlord's face grew red '. 

As his escutcheon on the wall; j 

He could not comprehend at all j 

25 The drift of what the Poet said; | 

For those wdio had been longest dead i 

Were always greatest in his eyes; ', 

And he was speechless with surprise ' 

To see Sir William's plumed head I 

30 Brought to a level with the rest, ] 

And made the subject of a jest. ! 

And this perceiving, to appease ^ 

The Landlord's wrath, the others' fears, j 

The Student said, with careless ease, | 

35 "The ladies and the cavaUers, 

The arms, the loves, the courtesies, 

The deeds of high emprise, 1 sing! 

Thus Ariosto says, in words 

That have the stately stride and ring 
40 Of armed knights and clashing swords. 

Now listen to the tale I bring; 

Listen! though not to me belong 

The flowing draj^eries of his song, 

The words that nnise, the voice that charms. 
45 The Landlord's tale was one of arms, 

Only a tale of love is mine. 

Blending the human and divine, 

A tale of the Decameron, told 

In Palmieri's garden old, 
50 By Fiametta, laurel-crowned. 

While her companions lay around. 

And heard the intermingled sound 

Of airs that on their errands sped. 

And wild birds gossiping overhead, 
55 And lisp of leaves, and fountain's fall, 

Ami her own voice more sweet than all, 

Telling the tale, which, w^anting these. 

Perchance may lose its power to please." 



i 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 311 

THE STUDENT'S TALE 

THE FALCON- OF SEU FEDERIGO 

One summer morning, when the sun was hot, 
Weary with hibor in his garden-plot. 
On a rude bench beneath his cottage eaves, 
Ser Federigo sat among the leaves 
5 Of a huge vine, that, with its arms outspread, 

Hung its delicious clusters overhead. 
Below him, through the lovely valley, flowed 
The river Arno, like a winding road, 
And from its banks were lifted high in air 

10 The spires and roofs of Florence called the Fair; 

To him a marble tomb, that rose above 
His wasted fortunes and his buried love. 
For there, in banquet and in tournament. 
His wealth had lavish been, his substance spent, 

15 To woo and lose, since ill his wooing sped, 

Monna Giovanna, who his rival wed, 
Yet ever in his fancy reigned supreme, 
The ideal woman of a young man's dream. 

Then he withdrew, in poverty and pain, 

20 To this small farm, the last of his domain. 

His only comfort and his only care 
To prune his vines, and plant the fig and pear; 
His only forester and only guest 
His falcon, faithful to him, when the rest, 

25 Whose willing hands had found so light of yore 

The brazen knocker of his palace door, 
Had now no strength to lift the wooden latch, 
That entrance gave beneath a roof of thatch. 
Companion of his solitary ways, 

30 Purveyor of his feasts on holidays, 

On him this melancholy man bestowed 
The love with which his nature overflowed. 
And so the empty-handed years went round, 
Vacant, though voiceful with j)rophetic sound, 

35 And so, that summer morn, he sat and nnised 

With folded, patient hands, as he was used, 
And dreamily before his half-closed sight 



312 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Floated the vision of his lost delight. 
Beside him, motionless, the drowsy bird 

40 Dreamed of the chase, and in his slumber heard 

The sudden, scythe-like sweep of wings, that dare 
The headlong plunge thro' eddying gulfs of air, 
Then, starting broad awake upon his perch, 
Tinkled his bells, like mass-bells in a church, 

45 And, looking at his master, seemed to say, 

"Ser Federigo, shall we hunt to-day?" 

Ser Federigo thought not of the chase; 

The tender vision of her lovely face, 

I will not say he seems to see, he sees 
50 In the leaf-shadows of the trellises, 

Herself, yet not herself; a lovely child 

With flowing tresses, and eyes wide and wild. 

Coming undaunted up the garden walk. 

And looking not at him, but at the hawk. a 

55 "Beautiful falcon! " said he, "would that I 1 

Might hold thee on my wrist, or see thee fly! " 

The voice was hers, and made strange echoes start 

Through all the haunted chambers of his heart, 

As an seolian harp through gusty doors 
60 Of some old ruin its wild music pours. 

"Who is thy mother, my fair boy?" he said, 

His hand laid softly on that shining head. 

"Monna Giovanna. — Will you let me stay 

A little while, and with your falcon play? 
65 We live there, just beyond your garden wall, 

In the great house behind the poplars tall." 

So he spake on; and Federigo heard 

As from afar each softly uttered word, 

And drifted onward through the golden gleams 
70 And shadows of the misty sea of dreams, 

As mariners becalmed through vapors drift, 

And feel the sea beneath them sink and lift, 

And hear far ofif the mournful breakers roar, 

And voices calling faintly from the shore! 
75 Then, waking from his pleasant reveries, 

He took the little boy upon his knees, 

And told him stories of his gallant bird, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 313 

Till in their friendship he became a third. 

Monna Giovanna, widowed in her prime, 
80 Had come with friends to pass the summer time 

In her grand villa, half-way up the hill, 
O'erlooking Florence, but retired and still; 
With iron gates that opened through long lines 
Of sacred ilex and centennial pines, 
85 And terraced gardens, and broad steps of stone, 

And sylvan deities, with moss o'ergrown, 
And fountains palpitating in the heat. 
And all Val d'Arno stretched beneath its feet. 

Here in seclusion, as a widow may, 
90 The lovely lady whiled the hours away, 

Pacing in sable robes the statued hall, 
Herself the stateliest statue among all, 
And seeing more and more, with secret joy, 
Her husband risen and living in her boy, 
95 Till the lost sense of life returned again. 

Not as delight, but as relief from pain. 
Meanwhile the boy, rejoicing in his strength, 
Stormed down the terraces from length to length; 
The screaming peacock chased in hot })ursuit, 

100 And climbed the garden trellises for fruit. 

But his chief pastime was to watch the flight 
Of a gerfalcon, soaring into sight. 
Beyond the trees that fringed the garden wall, 
Then downward stooping at some distant call; 

105 And as he gazed full often wondered he 

Who might the master of the falcon be, 
Until that happy morning, when he found 
Master and falcon in the cottage ground. 

And now a shadow^ and a terror fell 
110 On the great house, as if a passing-bell. 

Tolled from the tower, and filled each spacious room 

With secret awe, and preternatural gloom; 

The petted boy grew ill, and day by day 

Pined with mysterious malady away 
115 The mother's heart would not be comforted; 

Her darling seemed to her already dead, 



314 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And often, sitting by the sufferer's side, 
"What can I do to comfort thee?" she cried. 
At first the silent Hps made no reply, 
120 But, moved at length by her importunate cry, 

"Give me," he answered, with imploring tone, 
"Ser Federigo's falcon for my own! " 

No answer could the astonished mother make; 
How could she ask, e'en for her darling's sake, 

125 Such favor at a luckless lover's hand, 

Well knowing that to ask was to command? 
Well knowing, what all falconers confessed, 
In all the land that falcon was the best. 
The master's pride and passion and delight, 

130 And the sole pursuivant of this poor knight. 

But yet, for her child's sake, she could no less 
Than give assent, to soothe his restlessness, 
So promised, and then promising to keep 
Her promise sacred, saw him fall asleep. 

135 The morrow was a bright September morn; 

The earth was beautiful as if new-born; 
There was that nameless splendor everywhere. 
That wild exhilaration in the air. 
Which makes the passers in the city street 

140 Congratulate each other as they meet. 

Two lovely ladies, clothed in cloak and hood, 
Passed through the garden gate into the wood. 
Under the lustrous leaves, and through the sheen 
Of dewy sunshine showering down between. 

145 The one, close-hooded, had the attractive grace 

Which sorrow sometimes lends a woman's face; 
Her dark eyes moistened with the mists that roll 
From the gulf-stream of passion in the soul; 
The other with her hood thrown back, her hair 

150 Making a golden glory in the air. 

Her cheeks suffused with an auroral blush, 

Her young heart singing louder than the thrush. 

So walked, that morn, through mingled light and shade, 

Each by the other's presence lovelier made, 

155 Monna Giovanna and her bosom friend, 

Intent upon their errand and its end. 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 31^ 

They found Ser Federigo at his toil, 

Like banished Adam, delving in the soil; 

And when he looked and these fair women spied, 

160 The garden suddenly w'as glorified; 

His long-lost Eden was restored again, 

And the strange river winding through the plain 

No longer was the Arno to his eyes, 

But the Euphrates watering Paradise! 

165 Monna Giovanna raised her stately head, 

And with fair words of salutation said: 
"Ser Federigo, we come here as friends, 
Hoping in this to make some poor amends 
For past unkindness. I who ne'er before 

170 Would even cross the threshold of your door, 

I who in happier days such pride maintained, 
Refused your banquets, and your gifts disdained, 
This morning come, a self-invited guest, 
To put your generous nature to the test, 

175 And breakfast with you under your ov/n vine." 

To which he answered: "Poor desert of mine. 
Not your unkindness call it, for if aught 
Is good in me of feeling or of thought. 
From you it comes, and this last grace outweighs 

180 All sorrows, all regrets of other days." 

And after further compliment and talk, 
Among the asters in the garden walk 
He left his guests; and to his cottage turned, 
And as he entered for a moment yearned 

1S5 For the lost splendors of the days of old, 

The ruby glass, the silver and the gold, 
And felt how piercing is the sting of pride. 
By want embittered and intensified. 
He looked about him for some means or way 

190 To keep this unexpected holiday; 

Searched every cupboard, and then searched again. 
Summoned the maid who came, but came in vain; 
"The Signor did not hunt to-day," she said, 
"There's nothing in the house but wine and l)read." 

195 Then suddenly the drowsy falcon shook 

His little bells, with that sagacious look, 



316 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Which said, as plain as language to the ear, 
" If anything is wanting, I am here! " 
Yes, everything is wanting, gallant bird! 

200 The master seized thee without further word, 

Like thine own lure, he whirled thee round; ah me I 
The pomp and flutter of brave falconry, 
The bells, the jesses, the bright scarlet hood. 
The flight and the pursuit o'er field and wood, 

205 All these forevermore are ended now; 

No longer victor, but the victim thoul 

Then on the board a snow-white cloth he spread, 
Laid on its wooden dish the loaf of bread, 
Brought purple grapes with autumn sunshine hot, 
210 The fragrant peach, the juicy bergamot; 

Then in the midst a flask of wine he placed. 
And with autumnal flowers the banquet graced. 
Ser Federigo, would not these suffice 
Without thy falcon stuffed with cloves and spice? 

215 When all was ready, and the courtly dame 

With her companion to the cottage came. 
Upon Ser Federigo 's brain there fell 
The wild enchantment of a magic spell; 
The room they entered, mean and low and small, 

220 Was changed into a sumptuous banquet-hall, 

With fanfares by aerial trumpets blown; 
The rustic chair she sat on was a throne; 
He ate celestial food, and a divine 
Flavor was given to his country wine, 

225 And the poor falcon, fragrant with his spice, 

A peacock was, or bird of paradise! 

When the repast was ended, they arose 
And passed again into the garden-close. 
Then said the lady, " Far too well I know, 

230 Remembering still the days of long ago. 

Though you betray it not, with what surprise 
You see me here in this familiar wise. 
You have no children, and you cannot guess 
What anguish, what unspeakable distress 

235 A mother feels, whose child is lying ill, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 317 

Nor how her heart anticipates his will. 
And yet for this, you see me lay aside 
All womanly reserve and check of pride, 
And ask the thing most precious in your sight, 
!4 Your falcon, your sole comfort and delight. 

Which if you find it in your heart to give, 
My poor, unhappy boy perchance may live." 

Ser Federigo listens, and replies. 

With tears of love and pity in his eyes; 

!45 "Alas, dear lady! there can be no task 

So sweet to me, as giving when you ask. 
One little hour ago, if I had known 
This wish of yours, it would have been my own. 
But thinking in what manner I could best 

150 Do honor to the presence of my guest, 

I deemed that nothing worthier could be 
Than what most dear and precious was to me, 
And so my gallant falcon breathed his last 
To furnish forth this morning our repast." 

555 In mute contrition, mingled with dismay, 

The gentle lady turned her eyes away, 
Grieving that he such sacrifice should make. 
And kill his falcon for a woman's sake, 
Yet feeling in her heart a woman's pride, 

560 That nothing she could ask for was denied; 

Then took her leave, and passed out at the gate 
With footstep slow and soul disconsolate. 

Three days went by, and lo! a passing-bell 
Tolled from the little chapel in the dell; 

J65 Ten strokes Ser Federigo heard, and said. 

Breathing a prayer, "Alas! her child is dead!" 
Three months went by, and lo! a merrier chime 
Rang from the chapel bells at Christmas time; 
The cottage was deserted, and no more 

270 Ser Federigo sat beside its door. 

But now, with servitors to do his will. 
In the grand villa, half-way up the hill, 
Sat at the Christmas feast, and at his side 
Monna Giovanna, his beloved bride, 



318 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

275 Never so beautiful, so kind so fair, 

Enthroned once more in the old rustic chair, 
High-perched upon the back of which there stood 
The image of a falcon carved in wood, 
And underneath the inscription, with a date, 

280 "All things come round to him who will but wait." 

INTERLUDE 

Soon as the story reached its end, 
One, over eager to commend, 
Crowned it with injudicious praise; 
And then the voice of blame found vent, 
5 And fanned the embers of dissent 

Into a somewhat lively blaze. 

The Theologian shook his head; 

"These old Italian tales," he said, 

"From the much-praised Decameron down 
10 Through all the rabble of the rest. 

Are either trifling, dull, or lewd; 

The gossip of a neighborhood 

In some remote provincial town, 

A scandalous chronicle at best! 
15 They seem to me a stagnant fen, 

Grown rank with rushes and with reeds, 

Where a white lily, now and then. 

Blooms in the midst of noxious weeds 

And deadly nightshade on its banks." 

20 To this the Student straight replied, 

"For the white lily, many thanks! 

One should not say, with too much pride= 

Fountain, I will not drink of thee! 

Nor were it grateful to forget, 
25 That from these reservoirs and tanks 

Even imperial Shakespeare drew 

His Moor of Venice and the Jew, 

And Romeo and Juliet, 

And many a famous comedy." 

30 Then a long pause; till some one said, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 319 

"An angel is flying overhead! " 
At these words spake the Spanish Jew, 
And murmured with an inward breath: 
"God grant, if what you say. is true, 
35 It may not be the Angel of Death! " 

And then another pause; and then, 
Stroking his beard, he said again: 
" This brings back to my memory 
A story in the Talmud told, 
40 That book of gems, that book of gold, 

Of wonders many and manifold, 
A tale that often comes to me, 
And fills my heart, and haunts my brain. 
And never wearies nor grows old." 

THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 

THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 

Rabbi Ben Levi, on the Sabbath, read 
A volume of the Law, in which it said, 
"No man shall look upon my face and live." 
And as he read, he prayed that God would give 
6 His faithful servant grace with mortal eye 

To look upon his face and yet not die. 

Then fell a sudden shadow on the page 
And, lifting up his eyes, grown dim with age. 
He saw the Angel of Death before him stand, 

10 Holding a naked sword in his right hand. 

Rabbi Ben Levi was a righteous man. 
Yet through his veins a chill of terror ran. 
With trembling voice he said, "What wilt thou here? '* 
The Angel answered, "Lo! the time draws near 

15 When thou must die; yet first, by God's decree, 

Whate'er thou askest shall be granted thee." 
Replied the Rabbi, "Let these hving eyes 
First look upon my place in Paradise." 

Then said the Angel, "Come with me and look." 



320 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

20 Rabbi Ben Levi closed the sacred book, 

And rising, and uplifting his gray head, J 

"Give me thy sword," he to the Angel said, 
"Lest thou shouldst fall upon me by the way." 
The Angel smiled and hastened to obey, 

25 Then led him forth to the Celestial Town, , 

And set him on the wall, whence, gazing dow^i, ' 

Rabbi Ben Levi, with his living eyes, i 

Might look upon his place in Paradise. \ 



Then straight into the city of the Lord ') 

30 The Rabbi leaped with the Death- Angel's sword, { 

And through the streets there swept a sudden breath ] 

Of something there unknown, which men call death. ' 

Meanwhile the Angel stayed without, and cried, j 

"Come back! " To which the Rabbi's voice replied, ■ 

35 "No! in the name of God, whom I adore, ] 

I swear that hence I will depart no more! " j 

Then all the Angels cried, "O Holy One, j 

See what the son of Levi here hath done! I 

The kingdom of Heaven he takes by violence, i 

40 And in Thy name refuses to go hence! " ' 

The Lord replied, "My Angels, be not wroth; , 

Did e'er the son of Levi break his oath? \ 

Let him remain; for he -with mortal eye | 
Shall look upon my face and yet not die." 

45 Beyond the outer wall the Angel of Death ' 

Heard the great voice, and said, with panting breath • | 

"Give back the sword, and let me go my way." i 
Whereat the Rabbi paused, and answered, "Nay! 

Anguish enough already hath it caused j 

50 Among the sons of men." And while he paused 

He heard the aw^ful mandate of the Lord \ 

Resounding through the air, "Give back the sword! " I 

The Rabbi bowed his head in silent prayer; 

Then said he to the dreadful Angel, " Swear, j 

55 No human eye shall look on it again; i 

But v/hen thou takest away the souls of men, \ 

Thyself unseen, and with an unseen sword, i 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 321 

Thou wilt perform the bidding of the Lord." 
The Angel took the sword again, and swore, 
60 And walks on earth unseen forevermore. 



INTERLUDE 

He ended: and a kind of spell 
Upon the silent listeners fell. 
His solemn manner and his words 
Had touched the deep, mysterious chords, 
5 That vibrate in each human breast 

Alike, but not alike confessed. 
The spiritual world seeriied near; 
And close above them, full of fear, 
Its awful adumbration passed, 
10 A luminous shadow, vague and vast. 

They almost feared to look, lest there. 
Embodied from the impalpable air, 
They might behold the Angel stand, 
Holding the sword in his right hand. 

15 At last, but in a voice subdued. 

Not to disturb their dreamy mood, 
Said the Sicilian: "While you spoke, 
Telling your legend marvellous, 
Suddenly in my memory woke 

20 The thought of one, now gone from us, — 

An old Abate, meek and mild, 
My friend and teacher, when a child. 
Who sometimes in those days of old 
The legend of an Angel told, 

25 W^hich ran, if I remember, thus." 



THE SICILIAN'S TALE . 

KING ROBERT OF SICILY 

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 
And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
Apparalled in magnificent attire, 



322 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

With retinue of many a knight and squire, 
5 On St. John's eve, at vespers, proudly sat 

And heard the priests chant the Magnificat. 

And as he hstened, o'er and o'er again 

Repeated, hke a burden or refrain, 

He caught the words, " Deposuit potentes 
10 De sede, et exaltavit huiniles"; 

And slowly Hfting up his kingly head 

He to a learned clerk beside him said, 

"What mean these words?" The clerk made answer meet, 

"He has put down the mighty from their seat, 
15 And has exalted them of low degree," 

Thereat King Robert muttered scornfully, 

" 'T is well that such seditious words are sung 

Only by priests and in the Latin tongue; 

For unto priests and people be it known, 
20 There is no power can push me from my throne! " 

And leaning back, he yawned and fell asleep. 

Lulled by the chant monotonous and deep. 

When he awoke, it was already night; 

The church was empty, and there was no light, 
25 Save where the lamps, that glimmered few and faint, 

Lighted a little space before some saint. 

He started from his seat and gazed around, 

But saw no living thing and heard no sound. 

He groped towards the door, but it was locked; 
30 He cried aloud, and listened, and then knocked. 

And uttered awful threatenings and complaints, 

And imprecations upon men and saints. 

The sounds re-echoed from the roof and walls 

As if dead priests were laughing in their stalls! 

35 At length the sexton, hearing from without 
The tumult of the knocking and the shout, 
And thinking thieves were in the house of prayer. 
Came with his lantern, asking, "Who is there?" 
Half choked with rage. King Robert fiercely said, 

40 "Open: 't is I, the King! Art thou afraid?" 
The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, 
"This is some drunken vagabond, or worse! " 
Turned the great key and flung the portal wide; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 323 

A man rushed by him at a single stride, 
45 Haggard, half naked, without hat or cloak. 

Who neither turned, nor looked at him, nor spoke, 
But leaped into the blackness of the night, 
And vanished like a spectre from his sight. 

Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane 

50 And Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
Despoiled of his inagnificent attire, 
Bare-headed, breathless, and besprent with mire, 
With sense of wrong and outrage desperate, 
Strode on and thundered at the palace gate; 

55 Rushed through the court-yard, thrusting in his rage 
To right and left each seneschal and page. 
And hurried up the broad and sounding stair. 
His white face ghastly in the torches' glare. 
From hall to hall he passed with breathless speed; 

60 Voices and cries he heard, but did not heed, 
Until at last he reached the banquet-room, 
Blazing with light, and breathing with perfume. 

There on the dais sat another king, 

Wearing his robes, his crown, his signet-ring, 
65 King Robert's self in features, form, and height, 

But all transfigured with angelic light! 

It was an Angel; and his presence there 

With a divine effulgence filled the air, 

An exaltation, piercing the disguise, 
70 Through none the hidden Angel recognize. 

A moment speechless, motionless, amazed. 
The throneless monarch on the Angel gazed, 
Who met his looks of anger and surprise 
With the divine compassion of his eyes; 

75 Then said, "Who art thou? and why com'st thou here?" 
To which King Robert answered, with a sneer, 
" I am the King, and come to claim my own 
From an impostor, who usurps my throne! " 
And suddenly, at these audacious words, 

80 Up sprang the angry guests, and drew their swords; 
The Angel answered, with unruffled brow, 
"Nay, not the King, but the King's Jester, thou 



324 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Henceforth shalt wear the bells and scalloped cape, 
And for thy counsellor shalt lead an ape; 
85 Thou shalt obey my servants when they call, 
And wait upon my henchmen in the hall! " 

Deaf to King Robert's threats and cries and prayers, 
They thrust him from the hall and down the stairs; 
A group of tittering pages ran before, 
90 And as they opened witle the folding-door. 

His heart failed, for he heard, with strange alarms, 
The boisterous laughter of the men-at-arms, 
And all the vaulted chamber roar and ring 
With the mock plaudits of "Long live the King! " 

95 Next morning, waking with the day's first beam. 
He said within himself, "It was a dream! " 
But the straw rustl-ed as he turned his head. 
There were the cap and bells beside his bed. 
Around Iwm rose the bare, discolored walls, 
100 Close by, the steeds were champing in their stalls, 
And in the corner, a revolting shape. 
Shivering and chattering sat the wretched ape. 
It was no dream; the world he loved so much 
Had turned to dust and ashes at his touch! 

105 Days came and went; and now returned again 
To Sicily the old Saturnian reign; 
Under the Angel's governance benign 
The happy island danced with corn and wine. 
And deep within the mountain's burning breast 

110 Enceladus, the giant, was at rest. 

Meanwhile King Robert yielded to his fate, 

Sullen and silent and disconsolate. 

Dressed in the motley garb that Jesters wear, 

With looks bewildered and a vacant stare, 
115 Close shaven above the ears, as monks are shorn, 

By courtiers mocked, by pages laughed to scorn, 

His only friend the ape, his only food 

What others left, — he still was unsubdued. 

And when the Angel met him on his way, 
120 And half in earnest, half in jest, would say, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 325 

Sternly, though tenderly, that he might feel 
The velvet scabbard held a sword of steel, 
"Art thou the King?" the passion of his woe 
Burst from him in resistless overflow, 
125 And, lifting high his forehead, he would fling 

The haughty answer back, " I am, I am the King! " 

Almost three years were ended; when there came 

Ambassadors of great repute and name 

From Valmond, Emperor of Allemaine, 
130 Unto King Robert, saying that Pope Urbane 

By letter summoned them forthwith to come 

On Holy Thursday to his city of Rome. 

The Angel with great joy received his guests, 

And gave them presents of embroidered vests, 
135 And velvet mantles with rich ermine lined, 

And rings and jewels of the rarest kind. 

Then he departed with them o'er the sea 

Into the lovely land of Italy, 

Whose loveliness was more resplendent made 
140 By the mere passing of that cavalcade. 

With plumes, and cloaks, and housings and the stir 

Of jewelled bridle and of golden spur. 

And lo! among the menials, in mock state,^ 
Upon a piebald steed, with shambling gait, 
145 His cloak of fox-tails flapping in the wind, 
The solemn ape demurely perched behind. 
King Robert rode, making huge merriment 
In all the country towns through which they went. 

The Pope received them with great pomp, and blare 
150 Of bannered trumpets, on Saint Peter's square, 

Giving his benediction and embrace. 

Fervent, and full of apostolic grace. 

While with congratulations and with prayers 

He entertained the Angel unawares, 
155 Robert, the Jester, bursting through the crowd, 

Into their presence rushed, and cried aloud, 

"I am the King! Look, and behold in me 

Robert, your brother, King of Sicily! 

This man, who wears my semblance to your eyes. 



32 G Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

160 Is an impostor in a King's disguise. 

Do you not know me? does no voice within 
Answer my cry, and say we are akin?" 
The Pope in silence, but with troubled mien, 
Gazed at the Angel's countenance serene; 

165 The Emperor, laughing, said, "It is strange sport 
To keep a madman for thy Fool at court! " 
And the poor, baffled Jester in disgrace 
Was hustled back among the populace. 

In solemn state the Holy Week went by, 
170 And Easter Sunday gleamed upon the sky; 
The presence of the Angel, with its light. 
Before the sun rose, made the city bright. 
And with new fervor filled the hearts of men, 
Who felt that Christ indeed had risen again. 
175 Even the Jester, on his bed of straw, 

With liaggard eyes the unwonted splendor saw, 
He felt within a power unfelt before. 
And, kneeling humbly on his chamber floor. 
He heard the rushing garments of the Lord 
180 Sweep through the silent air, ascending heavenward. 

And now the visit ending, and once more 
Valmond returning to the Danube's shore, 
Homewartl the Angel journeyed, and again 
The lantl was made resplendent with his train, 

185 Flashing along the towns of Italy 

Unto Salerno, and from thence by sea. 
And when once more within Palermo's wall, 
And, seated on the throne in his great hall. 
He heard the Angelus from convent towers, 

190 As if the better world conversed with ours, 
He beckoned to King Robert to draw nigher, 
And with a gesture bade the rest retire; 
And when they were alone, the Angel said, 
"Art thou the King?" Then bowing down his head, 

195 King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast. 
And meekly answered him: "Thou knowest best! 
My sins as scarlet are; Let me go hence, 
And in some cloister's school of penitence, 
Across those stones, that pave the way to heaven, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 327 

200 Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul is shriven! " 

The Angel smiled, and from his radiant face 
A holy light illumined all the place, 
And through the open window, loud and clear. 
They heard the monks chant in the chapel near, 

205 Above the stir and tumult of the street: 

" He has put down the mighty from their seat, 
And has exalted them of low degree! " 
And through the chant a second melody 
Rose like the throbbing of a single string 

210 "I am an Angel, and thou art the King! " 

King Robert, who was standing near the throne, 
Lifted his eyes, and lo! he was alone! 
But all apparelled as in days of old, 
With ermined mantle and with cloth of gold; 
215 And when his courtiers came, they found him there 
Kneeling upon the floor, absorbed in silent prayer. 

INTERLUDE 

And then the blue-eyed Norseman told 
A Saga of the days of old. 
"There is," said he, "a wondrous book 
Of Legends in the old Norse tongue, 
5 Of the dead kings of Norroway, — 

Legends that once were told or sung 
In many a smoky fireside nook 
Of Iceland, in the ancient day. 
By wandering Saga-man or Scald; 
10 Heimskringla is the volume called; 

And he who looks may find therein 
The story that I now begin." 

And in each pause the story made 
Upon his violin he played, 
15 As an appropriate interlude, 

Fragments of old Norwegian tunes 
That bound in one the separate runes, 
And held the mind in perfect mood, 



328 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Entwining and encircling all 
20 The strange and antiquated rhymes 

With melodies of olden times; 
As over some half-ruined wall, 
Disjointed and about to fall, 
Fresh woodbines climb and interlace, 
25 And keep the loosened stones in place. 



THE MUSICIAN'S TALE , 

THE SAGA OF KING OLAF j 

I ■: 

THE CHALLENGE OF THOR ! 

I AM the God Thor, j 

I am the War God, I 
I am the Thunderer! 

Here in my Northland, ' 

5 My fastness and fortress, \ 

Reign I forever! ; 

Here amid icebergs 
Rule I the nations; 
This is my hammer, 
10 Miolner the mighty; 

Giants and sorcerers 
Cannot withstand it! 

These are the gauntlets 
Wherewith I wield it, 
15 And hurl it afar off; 

This is my girdle; 
Whenever I brace it, 
Strength is redoubled! 

The light thou beholdest 
20 Stream through the heavens, 

In flashes of crimson, 
Is but my red l)eard 
Blown by the night-wind, 
Affrighting the nations! 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 329 



25 Jove is my brother; 

Mine eyes are the hshtning; 
The wheels of my chariot 
Roll in the thunder, 
The blows of my hammer 

30 Ring in the earthquake! 

Force rules the world still, 
Has ruled it, shall rule it; 
Meekness is weakness. 
Strength is triumphant, 
35 Over the whole earth 

Still is it Thor's-Day! 

Thou art a God too, 
O Galilean! 

And thus single-handed 
40 Unto the combat, 

Gauntlet or Gospel, 
Here I defy thee! 



II 

KING OLAF's return 

And King Olaf heard the cry, 
Saw the red light in the sky, 
45 Laid his hand upon his sword. 

As he leaned upon the railing, 
And his ships went sailing, sailing. 
Northward into Drontheim fiord. 

There he stood as one who dreamed; 
50 And the red light glanced and gleamed 

On the armor that he wore; 
And he shouted, as the rifted 
Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 
"I accept thy challenge, Thor! " 

55 To avenge his father slain, 

And reconquer realm and reign, 



330 Narrative Poems of LongfcUow 

Came the youthful Olaf home, j 

Through the midnight saihng, saihng, 
Listening to the wild wind's wailing, 
60 And the dashing of the foam. 

To his thoughts the sacred name 
Of his mother Astrid came, 

And the tale she oft had told 
Of her flight by secret passes j 

65 Through the mountains and morasses, ' 

To the home of Hakon old. 

Then strange memories crowded back ; 

Of Queen Gunhild's wrath and wrack, ^ 

And a hurried flight by sea; ^ 
70 Of grim Vikings, and their rapture 

In the sea-fight and the capture, j 

And the life of slavery. 

How a stranger watched his face 
In the Esthonian market-place, 
75 Scanned his features one by one. 

Saying, ''We should know each other; i 

I am Sigurd, Astrid 's brother. 
Thou art Olaf, Astrid's son! " 

1 
Then as Queen Allogia's page, 
80 Old in honors, young in age, 

Chief of all her men-at-arms; 
Till vague whispers, and mysterious. 
Reached King Valdemar, the imperious, 
Filling him with strange alarms. 

85 Then his cruisings o'er the seas, 

Westward to the Hebrides, 

And to Scilly's rocky shore; 
And the hermit's cavern dismal, 
Christ's great name and rites baptismal, 

90 In the ocean's rush and roar. 

All these thoughts of love and strife 
Glimmered through his lurid life, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 331 

As the stars' intenser light 
Through the red flames o'er him traihng, 
95 As his ships went saiHng, saihng, 

Northward in the summer night. 

Trained for either camp or court, 
Skilful in each manly sport, 
Young and beautiful and tall; 
100 Art of warfare, craft of chases, 

Swimming, skating, snow-shoe races, 
Excellent alike in all. 

When at sea, with all his rowers. 
He along the bending oars 
105 Outside of his ship could run. 

He the Smalsor Horn ascended. 
And his shining shield suspended 
On its summit, like a sun. 

On the ship-rails he could stand, 
110 Wield his sword with either hand. 

And at once two javelins throw; 
At all feasts where ale was strongest 
Sat the merry monarch longest. 
First to come and last to go. 

1 1 5 Norway never yet had seen 

One so beautiful of mien, 
One so royal in attire, 

When in arms completely furnished, 

Harness gold-inlaid and burnished, 
120 Mantle Hke a flame of fire. 

Thus came Olaf to his own, 
When upon the night-wind blown, 
Passed that cry along the shore; 
And he answered, while the rifted 
125 Streamers o'er him shook and shifted, 

"I accept thy challenge, Thor! " 

III 

THORA OF RIMOL 

"Thora of Rimol! hide me! hide me! 
Danger and shame and death betide me! 



332 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

For Olaf the King is hunting me down 
130 Through field and forest, through thorp and town! " 
Thus cried Jarl Hakon 
To Thora, the fairest of women. 

"Hakon Jarl! for the love I bear thee 
Neither shall shame nor death come near thee! 
135 But the hiding-place wherein thou must lie 

Is the cave underneath the swine in the sty." 

Thus to Jarl Hakon 

Said Thora, the fairest of women. 

So Hakon Jarl and his base thrall Karker 
140 Crouched in the cave, than a dungeon darker, 
As Olaf came riding, with men in mail. 
Through the forest roads into Orkadale, 

Demanding Jarl Hakon 

Of Thora, the fairest of women. 

1 45 " Rich and honored shall be whoever 

The head of Hakon Jarl shall dissever! " 
Hakon heard him, and Karker the slave. 
Through the breathing-holes of the darksome cave. 
Alone in her chamber 

150 Wept Thora, the fairest of women. 

Said Karker, the crafty, "I will not slay thee! 
For all the King's gold I will never betray thee! " 
"Then why dost thou turn so pale, O churl, 
And then again black as the earth?" said the Earl. 
155 More pale and more faithful 

Was Thora, the fairest of women. 

From a dream in the night the thrall started, saying, 
" Round my neck a gold ring King Olaf was laying! " 
And Hakon answered, "Beware of the king! 
IGO He will lay round thy neck a blood-red ring." 
At the ring on her finger 
Gazed Thora, the fairest of women. 

At daybreak slept Hakon, with sorrows encumbered, 
But screamed and drew up his feet as he slumbered; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 333 

165 The thrall in the darkness plunged with his knife, 
And the Earl awakened no more in this life. 
But wakeful and weeping 
Sat Thora, the fairest of women. 

At Nidarholm the priests are all singing, 
170 Two ghastly heads on the gibbet are swinging. 
One is Jarl Hakon's and one is his thrall's, 
And the people are shouting from windows and walls; 
While alone in her chamber 
Swoons Thora, the fairest of women. 



IV 

QUEEN SIGRID THE HAUGHTY 

175 Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft 

In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft. 
Heart's dearest, 
Why dost thou sorrow so? 

The floor with tassels of fir was besprent, 
.180 Filling the room with their fragrant scent. 

She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine. 
The air of summer was sweeter than wine. 

Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay 
Between her own Kingdom and Norroway. 

185 But Olaf the King had sued for her hand. 

The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned. 

Her maidens were seated around her knee. 
Working bright figures in tapestry. 

And one was singing the ancient rune 
190 Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun. 

And through it, and round it, and over it all 
Sounded incessant the waterfall. 



334 Narrative Poems of Long fellow 

The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold, 
From the door of Lade's Temple old. 

195 King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift, 

But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift. 

She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain, 
Who smiled, as they handed it back again. 

And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way, 
200 Said, "Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say?" 

And they answered: ''O Queen! if the truth must be told, 
The ring is of copper, and not of gold! " 

The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek, 
She only murmured, she did not speak: 

205 " If in his gifts he can faithless be. 

There will be no gold in his love to me." 

A footstep was heard on the outer stair. 
And in strode King Olaf with royal air. 

He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love, 
210 And swore to be true as the stars are above. 

But she smiled with contempt as she answered : " O Kingj 
Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?" 

And the King: "O speak not of Odin to me, 
The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be." 

215 Looking straight at the King, with her level brows, 
She said, "I keep true to my faith and my vows." 

Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom, 
He rose in his anger and strode through the room. 

"Why, then, should I care to have thee?" he said, — 
220 "A faded old woman, a heathenish jade! " 

His zeal was stronger than fear or love, 

And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove. 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 

Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled, 
And the wooden stairway shook with his tread. 

225 Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath, 
"This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!" 
Heart's dearest, 
Why dost thou sorrow so? 



THE SKERRY OF SHRIEKS 

Now from all King Olaf 's farms 
230 His men-at-arms 

Gathered on the Eve of Easter; 
To his house at Angvalds-ness 

Fast they press. 
Drinking with the royal feaster. 

235 Loudly through the wide-flung door 

Came the roar 
Of the sea upon the Skerry; 
And its thunder loud and near 
Reached the ear, 
240 Mingling with their voices merry, 

" Hark! " said Olaf to his Scald, 

Halfred the Bald, 
"Listen to that song, and learn it! 
Half my kingdom would I give, 
245 As I live, 

If by such songs you would earn it! 

" For of all the runes and rhymes 

Of all times, 
Best I like the ocean's dirges, 
250 When the old harper heaves and rocks, 

His hoary locks 
Flowing and flashing in the surges!" 

Halfred answered: "I am called 
The Unappalled! 



336 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

265 Nothing hinders me or daunts me. 

Hearken to me, then, O King, 

While I sing 
The great Ocean Song that haunts me." 

" I will hear your song sublime 
260 Some other time," 

Says the drowsy monarch, yawning, 
And retires; each laughing guest 

Applauds the jest; 
Then they sleep till day is dawning. 

265 Pacing up and down the yard, 

King Olaf s guard 
Saw the sea-mist slowly creeping 
O'er the sands, and up the hill, 
Gathering still 
270 Round the house where they were sleeping. 

It was not the fog he saw. 

Nor misty flaw. 
That above the landscape brooded; j 

It was Eyvind Kallda's crew j 

275 Of warlocks blue, I 

With their caps of darkness hoodedl 

Round and round the house they go, j 

Weaving slow | 

Magic circles to encumber , 

280 And imprison in their ring j 

Olaf the King, | 

As he helpless lies in slumber. 

j 

Then athwart the vapors dun j 

The Easter sun I 

285 Streamed with one broad track of splendor! j 

In their real forms appeared ; 

The warlocks weird, i 

Awful as the Witch of Endor. I 

Blinded by the light that glared, i 

290 They groped and stared 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 337 

Round about with steps unsteady; 
From his window Olaf gazed, 

And, amazed, 
"Who are these strange people?" said he. 

295 "Eyvind Kallda and his men! " 

Answered then 
From the yard a sturdy farmer; 
While the men-at-arms apace 
Filled the place, 
300 Busily buckling on their armor. 

From the gates they sallied forth. 

South and north. 
Scoured the island coast around them, 
Seizing all the warlock band, 
305 Foot and hand 

On the Skerry's rocks they bound them. 

And at eve the King again 

Called his train. 
And, with all the candles burning, 
310 Silent sat and heard once more 

The sullen roar 
Of the ocean tides returning. 

Shrieks and cries of wild despair 

Filled the air, 
315 Growing fainter as they listened; 

Then the bursting surge alone 

Sounded on; — 
Thus the sorcerers were christened! 

"Sing, O Scald, your song sublime, 
320 Your ocean-rhyme," 

Cried King Olaf: "it will cheer me! " 
Said the Scald, with pallid cheeks, 

"The Skerry of Shrieks 
Sings too loud for you to hear me! " 



338 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

VI 

THE WRAITH OF ODIN 

325 The guests were loud, the ale was strong, 

King Olaf feasted late and long; 
The hoary Scalds together sang; 
O'erhead the smoky rafters rang. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

330 The door swung wide, with creak and din; 

A blast of cold night-air came in, 
And on the threshold shivering stood 
A one-eyed guest, with cloak and hood. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

335 The King exclaimed, "O graybeard pale! 

Come warm thee with this cup of ale." 
The foaming draught the old man quaffed. 
The noisy guests looked on and laughed. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

340 Then spake the King: "Be not afraid; 

Sit here by me." The guest obeyed. 
And, seated at the table, told 
Tales of the sea, and Sagas old. 

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

345 And ever, when the tale was o'er. 

The King demanded yet one more; 
Till Sigurd the Bishop smiling said, 
" 'T is late, O King, and time for bed." 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

350 The King retired; the stranger guest 

Followed and entered with the rest; 
The lights were out, the pages gone. 
But still the garrulous guest spake on. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

355 As one who from a volume reads, 

He spake of heroes and their deeds, . 
Of lands and cities he had seen, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 339 

And stormy gulfs that tossed between. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

360 Then from his lips in music rolled 

The Havamal of Odin old, 
With sounds mysterious as the roar 
Of billows on a distant shore. 

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

365 "Do we not learn from runes and rhymes 

Made by the gods in elder times, 
And do not still the great Scalds teach 
That silence better is than speech?" 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

370 Smiling at this, the King replied, 

"Thy lore is by thy tongue behed; 
For never was I so enthralled 
Either by Saga-man or Scald." 

Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

375 The Bishop said, "Late hours we keep! 

Night wanes, O King, 't is time for sleep! " 
Then slept the King and when he woke 
The guest was gone, the morning broke. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

380 They found the doors securely barred. 

They found the watch-dog in the yard, 
There was no footprint in the grass, 
And none had seen the stranger pass. 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

385 King Olaf crossed himself and said: 

"I know that Odin the Great is dead; 
Sure is the triumph of our Faith, 
The one-eyed stranger was his wraith." 
Dead rides Sir Morten of Fogelsang. 

VII 

IRON-BEARD 

390 Olaf the King, one summer morn, 
Blew a blast on his bugle-horn, 



340 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Sending his signal through the land of Drontheim. 

And to the Hus-Ting held at Mere 
Gathered the farmers far and near, 
395 With their war weapons ready to confront him. 

Ploughing under the morning star, 
Old Iron-Beard in Yriar 
Heard the summons, chuckling with a low laugh. 

He wiped the sweat-drops from his brow, 
400 Unharnessed his horses from the plough, 

And clattering came on horseback to King Olaf. 

He was the churliest of the churls; 
Little he cared for king or earls; 
Bitter as home-brewed ale were his foaming passions. 

405 Hodden-gray was the garb he wore, 

And by the Hammer of Thor he swore; 
He hated the narrow tov/n, and all its fashions. 

But he loved the freedom of his farm. 
His ale at night, by the fireside warm, 
410 Gudrun his daughter, with her flaxen tresses. 

He loved his horses and his herds. 
The smell of the earth, and the song of birds, 
His well-filled barns, his brook with its water-cresses. 

Huge and cumbersome was his frame; 
415 His beard, from which he took his name, 

Frosty and fierce, like that of Hymer the Giant. 

So at the Hus-Ting he appeared. 
The farmer of Yriar, Iron-Beard, 
On horseback with an attitude defiant. 

420 And to King Olaf he cried aloud, 
Out of the middle of the crowd, 
That tossed about him like a stormy ocean: 

" Such sacrifices shalt thou bring; 
To Odin and to Thor, O King, 
425 As other kings have done in their devotion!" 



Talcs of a Wayside Inn 341 

King Olaf answered: "I command 
This land to be a Christian land; 
Here is my Bishop who the folk baptizes! 

"But if you ask me to restore 
430 Your sacrifices, stained with gore, 
Then will I offer human sacrifices! 

"Not slaves and peasants shall they be, 
But men of note and high degree. 
Such men as Orm of Lyra and Kar of Gryting! '* 

435 Then to their Temple strode he- in. 
And loud behind him heard the din 
Of his men-at-arms and the peasants fiercely fighting. 

There in the Temple, carved in wood. 
The image of great Odin stood, 
440 And other gods, with Tlior supreme among them. 

King Olaf smote them with the blade 
Of his huge war-axe, gold inlaid. 
And downward shattered to the pavement flung them. 

At the same moment rose without, 
445 From the contending crowd, a shout, 

A mingled sound of triumph and of wailing. 

And there upon the trampled plain 
The farmer Iron-Beard lay slain, 
Midway between the assailed and the assailing. 

450 King Olaf from the doorway spoke: 

"Choose ye between two things, my folk, 
To be baptized or given up to slaughter! " 

And seeing their leader stark and dead, 
The people with a murmur said, 
455 "O King, baptize us with thy holy water!" 

So all the Drontheim land became 
A Christian land in name and fame, 
In the old gods no more believing and trusting. 



342 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And as a blood-atonement, soon 
460 King Olaf wed the fair Giidrun; 

And thus in peace ended the Drontheim Hus-Ting! 

VIII 

GUDRUN 

On King Olaf s bridal night 
Shines the moon with tender light, 
And across the chamber streams 
465 Its tide of dreams. 

At the fatal midnight hour, 
When all evil things have power. 
In the glimmer of the moon 
Stands Gudrun. 

470 Close against her heaving breast, 

Something in her hand is pressed; 
Like an icicle, its sheen 
Is cold and keen. 

On the cairn are fixed her eyes 
475 Where her murdered father lies, 

And a voice remote and drear 
She seems to hear. 

What a bridal night is this! 
Cold will be the dagger's kiss; 
480 Laden with the chill of death 

Is its breath. 

Like the drifting snow she sweeps 
To the couch where Olaf sleeps; 
Suddenly he wakes and stirs, 
485 His eyes meet hers. 

"What is that," King Olaf said, 
"Gleams so bright above thy head? 
Wherefore standest thou so white 
In pale moonlight? 



r«/e.s of a Wayside Inn 343 

490 " 'T is the bodkin that I wear 

When at night I bind my hair; 
It woke me falling on the floor 
'T is nothing more." 

"Forests have ears, and fields have eyes; 
495 Often treachery lurking lies 

Underneath the fairest hair! 
Gudrun, beware! " 

Ere the earliest peep of morn 
Blew King Olaf's bugle-horn; 
500 And forever sundered ride 

Bridegroom and bride! 

IX 

THANGBRAND THE PRIEST 

Short of stature, large of limb, 
Burly face and russet beard, 
All the women stared at him, 
505 When in Iceland he aj)pcared. 

"Look!" they said, 
With nodding head, 
"There goes Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." 

All the prayers he knew by rote, 
510 He could preach like Chrysostomo, 

From the Fathers he could (|uote, 
He had even been at Rome. 
A learned clerk, 
A man of mark, 
515 Was this Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

He was quarrelsome and loud, 

And impatient of control. 
Boisterous in the market crowd, 
Boisterous at the wassail-bowl, 
520 Everywhere 

Would drink and swear, 
Swaggering Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 



344 Narrative Poeyns of Longfellow 

In his house this malcontent 
Could the King no longer bear, 
525 So to Iceland he was sent 

To convert the heathen there, 
And away 
One summer day 
Sailed this Thangbrand, Olaf s Priest. 

530 There in Iceland, o'er their books 

Pored the people day and night. 
But he did not like their looks, 
Nor the songs they used to write. 
"All this rhyme 
535 Is waste of time! " 

Grumbled Thangbrand, Olaf s Priest. 

To the alehouse, where he sat. 

Came the Scalds and Saga-men; 
Is it to be wonderctl at, 
540 That they quarrelled now and then, 

When o'er his beer 
Began to leer 
Drunken Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest? 

All the folks in Altafiord 
545 Boasted of their island grand; 

Saying in a single word, 
" Iceland is the finest land 
That the sun 
Doth shine upon!" 
550 Loud laughed Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

And he answered: "What's the use 

Of this bragging up and down. 
When three women and one goose 
Make a market in your town! " 
555 Every Scald 

Satires scrawled 
On poor Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

Something worse they did than that; 
And what vexed him most of all 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 345 

5G0 Was a figure in shovel hat,. 

Drawn in charcoal on the wall; 
With words that go 
Sprawling below, 
"This is Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest." 

565 Hardly knowing what he did. 

Then he smote them might and main, 
Thorvald Veile and Veterlid 

Lay there in the alehouse slain. 
"To-day we are gold, 
570 To-morrow mould! " 

Muttered Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 

Much in fear of axe and rope, 

Back to Norway sailed he then. 
"O King Olaf! little hope 
575 Is there of these Iceland men!" 

Meekly said, 
With bending head, 
Pious Thangbrand, Olaf's Priest. 



X 

RAUD THE STRONG 

"All the old gods are dead 
580 All the wild warlocks fled; 

But the White Christ lives and reigns. 
And throughout my wide domains 
His Gospel shall be spread! " 
On the Evangelists 
585 Thus swore King Olaf. 

But still in dreams of the night 
Beheld he the crimson light, 
And heard the voice that defied 
Him who was crucified, 
590 And challenged him to the fight. 

To Sigurd the Bishop 

King Olaf confessed it. 



346 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

And Sigurd the Bishop said, 
"The old gods are not dead, 
595 For the great Thor still reigns, 

And among the Jarls and Thanes 
The old witchcraft still is spread." 
Thus to King Olaf 
Said Sigurd the Bishop. 

600 "Far north in the Salten Fiord, 

By rapine, fire, and sword, 
Lives the Viking, Raud the Strong; 
All the Godoe Isles belong 
To him and his heathen horde." 

605 Thus went on speaking 

Sigurd the Bishop. 

"A warlock, a wizard is he, 
And lord of the wind and the sea; 
And whichever way he sails, 
610 He has ever favoring gales, 

By his craft in sorcery." 

Here the sign of the cross made 

Devoutly King Olaf. 

"With rites that we both abhor, 
615 He worships Odin and Thor; 

So it cannot yet be said. 
That all the old gods are dead. 
And the warlocks are no more." 
Flushing with anger 
620 Said Sigurd the Bishop. 

Then King Olaf cried aloud: 
" I will talk with this mighty Raud, 
And along the Salten Fiord 
Preach the Gospel with my sword, 
625 Or be brought back in my shroud! " 

So northward from Drontheim 

Sailed King Olaf! 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 347 

XI 

BISHOP SIGURD AT SALTEN FIORD 

Loud the angry wind was wailing 
As King Olaf 's ships came sailing 
630 Northward out of Drontheim haven 

To the mouth of Salten Fiord. 

Though the flying sea-spray drenches 
Fore and aft the rowers' benches, 
Not a single heart is craven 
635 Of the champions there on board. 

All without the Fiord was quiet, , 
But within it storm and riot. 
Such as on his Viking cruises 

Raud the Strong was wont to ride. 

640 And the sea through all its tide-ways 

Swept the reeling vessels sideways, 
As the leaves are swept through sluices, 
When the flood-gates open wide. 

" 'T is the warlock! 't is the demon 
645 Raud! " cried Sigurd to the seamen; 

"But the Lord is not affrighted 
By the witchcraft of his foes." 

To the ship's bow he ascended. 
By his choristers attended, 
650 Round him were the tapers lighted. 

And the sacred incense rose. 

On the bow stood Bishop Sigurd, 
In his robes, as one transfigured, 
And the Crucifix he planted 
655 High amid the rain and mist. 

Then wqth holy water sprinkled 
All the ship; the mass-bells tinkled; 
Loud the monks around him chanted, 
Loud he read the Evangelist. 



348 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

660 As into the Fiord they darted, 

On each side the water parted; 
Down a path hke silver molten 
Steadily rowed King Olaf s ships; 

Steadily burned all night the tapers, 
665 And the White Christ through the vapors 

Gleamed across the Fiord of Salten, 
As through John's Apocalypse, — 

Till at last they reached Raud's dweUing 
On the little isle of Gelling; 
670 Not a guard was at the doorway, 

Not a glimmer of light was seen. 

But at anchor, carved and gilded, 
Lay the dragon-ship he builded; 
'T was the grandest ship in Norway, 
675 With its crest and scales of green. 

Up the stairway, softly creeping. 
To the loft where Raud was sleeping, 
With their fists thoy burst asunder 
Bolt and bar that held the door. 

680 Drunken with sleep and ale they found him, 

Dragged him from his bed and bound him, 
While he stared with stujMd wonder, 
At the look and garb they wore. 

Then King Olaf said: "O Sca-King! 
685 Little time have we for speaking, 

Choose between the good and evil; 
Be baptized, or thou shalt die! " 

But in scorn the heathen scoffer 
Answered: "I disdain thine offer; 
690 Neither fear I God nor Devil; 

Thee and thy Gospel I defy! " 

Then between his jaws distended. 
When his frantic struggles ended, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 349 

Through King Olaf's horn an adder, 
695 Touched by fire, they forced to glide. 

Sharp his tooth was as an arrow, 
As he gnawed through bone and marrow; 
But without a groan or shudder, 
Raud the Strong blaspheming died. 

700 Then baptized they all that region, 

Swarthy Lap and fair Norwegian, 
Far as swims the salmon, leaping. 
Up the streams of Salten Fiord. 

In their temples Thor and Odin 
7 05 Lay in dust and ashes trodden. 

As King Olaf, onward sweeping. 

Preached the Gospel with his sword. 

Then he took the carved and gilded 
Dragon-ship that Raud had builded, 
710 And the tiller single-handed. 

Grasping, steered into the main. 

Southward sailed the soa-gulls o'er him, 
Southward sailed the ship that bore him, 
Till at Drontheim haven landed 
715 Olaf and his crew again. 

XII 

KING olaf's CHRISTMAS 

At Drontheim, Olaf the King 
Heard the bells of Yulc-tidc ring, 

As he sat in his banquet-hall. 
Drinking the nut-brown ale, 
720 With his bearded Berserks hale 

And tall. 

Three days his Yule-tide feasts 
He held with Bishops and Priests, 
And his horn filled up to the brim; 
725 But the ale was never too strong, 



350 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Nor the Saga-man's tale too long, 
For him. 

O'er his drinking-horn, the sign 
He made of the cross divine, 
730 As he drank, and muttered his prayers; 

But the Berserks evermore 
Made the sign of the Hammer of Thor 
Over theirs. 

The gleams of the fire-light dance 
735 Upon helmet and hauberk and lance, 

And laugh in the eyes of the King; 
And he cries to Half red the Scald, 
Gray-bearded, wrinkled, and bald, 
"Sing!" 

740 "Sing me a song divine, 

With a sword in every line, 

And this shall be thy reward." 
And he loosened the belt at his waist. 
And in front of the singer placed 

745 ■ His sword. 

"Quern-biter of Hakon the Good, 
Wherewith at a stroke he hewed 

The millstone through and through, 
And Foot-breadth of Thoralf the Strong, 
750 Were neither so broad nor so long. 

Nor so true." 

Then the Scald took his harp and sang, 
And loud through the music rang 

The sound of that shining word; 
755 And the harp-strings a clangor made. 

As if they were struck with the blade 

Of a sword. 

And the Berserks round about 
Broke forth into a shout 
760 That made the rafters ring: 

They smote with their fists on the board. 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 351 

And shouted, "Long live the Sword, 
And the King! " 

But the King said, "O my son, 
'65 I miss the bright word in one 

Of thy measures and thy rhymes." 
And Halfred the Scald replied, 
"In another 't was multiplied 

Three times." 

'70 Then King Olaf raised the hilt 

Of iron, cross-shaped and gilt, 
And said, "Do not refuse; 

Count well the gain and the loss, 

Thor's hammer or Christ's cross: 
75 Choose!" 

And Halfred the Scald said, "This 
In the name of the Lord I kiss, 

Who on it was crucified! " 
And a shout went round the board, 
'80 "In the name of Christ the Lord, 

Who died!" 

Then over the waste of snows 
The noonday sun uprose, 

Through the driving mists revealed, 
85 Like the lifting of the Host, 

By incense-clouds almost 

Concealed. 

On the shining wall a vast 
And shadowy cross was cast 
90 From the hilt of the lifted sword, 

And in foaming cups of ale 
The Berserks drank "Was-hael! 
To the Lord! " 

XIII 

THE BUILDING OF THE LONG SERPENT 

Thorberg Skafting, master-builder, 
'95 In his ship-yard by the sea, 



352 Narrative Poemf^ of Longjellow 1 

Whistling, said, '' It would bewilder 
Any man but Thorberg Skafting, 

Any man but me! " j 

{ 

Near him lay the Dragon stranded, ■ 

800 Built of old by Raud the Strong, ' 

And King Olaf had commanded ; 

He should built another Dragon, 

Twice as large and long. 

Therefore whistled Thorberg Skafting, j 

805 As he sat with half-closed eyes. 

And his head turned sideways, drafting 
That new vessel for King Olaf | 

Twice the Dragon's size. 

Round him busily hewed and hammered ! 

810 Mallet huge and heavy axe; ' 

Workmen laughed and sang and clamored; 
Whirred the wheels, that into rigging 
Spun the shining flaxl 

i 

All this tumult heard the master, — \ 

815 It was music to his ear; I 

Fancy whispered all the faster, - • 

"Men shall hoar of Thorberg Skafting I 

For a hundred year! " j 



Workmen sweating at the forges 
820 Fashioned iron bolt and bar. 

Like a warlock's midnight orgies 
Smoked antl bubbled the black caldron 
With the boiling tar. 

Did the warlocks mingle in it, 
825 Thorberg Skafting, any curse? 

Could you not be gone a minute 
But some mischief must be doing, 
Turning bad to worse? 

'T was an ill wind that came wafting, 
830 From his homestead words of woe; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 353 

To his farm went Thorberg Skafting, 
Oft repeating to his workmen, 
Build ye thus and so. 

After long delays returning 

Came the master back by night; 
To his ship-yard longing, yearning, 
Hurried he, and did not leave it 

Till the morning's light. 

"Come and see my ship, my darlingl " 

On the morrow said the King; 
"Finished now from keel to carling; 
Never yet was seen in Norway 

Such a wondrous thing! " 

In the ship-yard, idly talking, 

At the ship the workmen stared: 
Some one, all their labor balking, 
Down her sides had cut deep gashes. 

Not a plank was spared 1 

"Death be to the evil-doer!" 

With an oath King Olaf spoke; 
"But rewards to his pursuer!" 
And with wrath his face grew redder 

Than his scarlet cloak. 

Straight the master-builder, smiling, 

Answered thus the angry King: 
"Cease blaspheming and reviling, 
Olaf, it was Thorberg Skafting 

Who has done this thing! " 

Then he chipped and smoothed the planking. 

Till the King, delighted, swore. 
With much lauding and much thanking, 
"Handsomer is now my Dragon 

Than she was before! " 

Seventy ells and four extended 
On the grass the vessel's keel; 



354 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

High above it, gilt and splendid, , 

Rose the figure-head ferocious I 

With its crest of steel. ; 

Then they launched her from the tressels, 
870 In the ship-yard by the sea; j 

She was the grandest of all vessels, : 

Never ship was built in Norway 
Half so fine as she I 

The Long Serpent was she christened, | 

875 'Mid the roar of cheer on cheer! "j 

They who to the Saga listened ; 

Heard the name of Thorberg Skafting , 

For a hundred year! 



XIV 

THE CREW OF THE LONG SERPENT 

Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay 
880 King Olaf's fleet assembled lay, 

And, striped with white and blue, 

Downward fluttered sail and banner, 

As alights the screaming lanner; 

Lustily cheered, in their wild manner, 
885 The Long Serpent's crew. 

Her forecastle man was Ulf the Red; 
Like a wolf's was his shaggy head. 

His teeth as large and white; 
His beard, of gray and russet blended, 
890 Round as a swallow's nest descended; 
As standard-bearer he defended 

Olaf's flag in the fight. 

Near him Kolbiorn had his place, 
Like the King in garb and face, 
895 So gallant and so hale: 

Every cabin-boy and varlet 

Wondered at his cloak of scarlet; 



Talcs of a Wayside Inn 355 

Like a river, frozen and star-lit, 
Gleamed his coat of mail. 

900 By the bulkhead, tall and dark, 

Stood Thrand Rame of Tholemark, 

A figure gaunt and grand; 
On his hairy arm imprinted 
AVas an anchor, azure-tinted; 
905 Like Thor's hammer, huge and dinted 

Was his brawny hand. 

Einar Tamberskelver, Ixare 
To the winds his golden hair, 

By the mainmast stood; 
910 Graceful was his form, and slender. 
And his eyes were deep anil tender 
As a woman's in the splendor 

Of her maidenhood. 

In the fore-hold Biorn and Bork 
915 Watched the sailors at their work: 

Heavens! how they swore! 

Thirty men they each conunanded, 

Iron-sinewed, horny-handed, 

Shoulders broad, and chests expanded, 
920 Tugging at the oar. 

These, and many more like thes , 
With King Olaf sailed the seas. 

Till the waters vast 
Filled them with a vague devotion, 
925 With the freedom and the motion, 

With the roll and roar of ocean 

And the sounding blast. 

When they landed from the fleet, 
How they roared through Drontheim's street, 
930 Boisterous as the gale! 

How they laughed and stamped and pounded, 
Till the tavern roof resounded, 
And the host looked on astounded 
As they drank the ale! 



356 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

935 Never saw the wild North Sea 
Such a gallant company 

Sail its billows blue! 
Never, while they cruised and quarrelled, 
Old King Gorm, or Blue-Tooth Haraldj 
940 Owned a ship so well apparelled 
Boasted such a crew! 



XV 

A LITTLE BIRD IN THE AIR 

A LITTLE bird in the air 
Is singing of Thyri the fair, 
The sister of Svend the Dane; 
945 . And the song of the garrulous bird 

In the streets of the town is heard, 
And repeated again and again. 
Hoist up your sails of silk, 
And flee away from each other. 

950 To King Burislaf, it is said. 

Was the beautiful Thyri wed. 

And a sorrowful bride went she; 
And after a week and a day, 
She has fled away and away, 
955 From his town by the stormy sea. 

Hoist up your sails of silk, 
And flee away from each other. 

They say, that through heat and through cold. 
Through weald, they say, and through wold, 
960 By day and by night, they say. 

She has fled; and the gossips report 
She has come to King Olaf's court, 
And the town is all in dismay. 
Hoist up your sails of silk, 
965 And flee away from each other. 

It is whispered King Olaf has seen, 
Has talked with the beautiful Queen; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 357 



And they wonder how it will end; 
For surely, if here she remain, 
970 It is war with King Svend the Dane, 

And King Burislaf the Vend! 
Hoist up your sails of silk, 
And flee away from each other. 

O, greatest wonder of all! 
975 It is published in hamlet and hall, 

It roars hke a flame that is fanned 
The King — yes, Olaf the King — 
Has wedded her with his ring, 
And Thyri is Queen in the land! 
980 Hoist up your sails of silk. 

And flee away from each other. 



XVI 

QUEEN THYRI AND THE ANGELICA STALKS 

Northward over Drontheim, 
Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, 
Sang the lark and linnet 
985 From the meadows green; 

Weeping in her chamber, 
Lonely and unhappy, 
Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
Sat King Olaf's Queen. 

990 In at all the windows 

Streamed the pleasant sunshine, 
On the roof above her 
Softly cooed the dove; 

But the sound she heard not, 
995 Nor the sunshine heeded. 

For the thoughts of Thyri 
Were not thoughts of love. 

Then King Olaf entered, 
Beautiful as morning, 



358 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

1 000 Like the sun at Easter 

Shone his happy face; 

In his hand he carried 
AngeHcas uprooted, 
With dehcious fragrance 
1005 Filhng all the place. 

Like a rainy midnight 
Sat the Drottning Thyri, 
Even the smile of Olaf 

Could not cheer her gloom; 

1010 Nor the stalks he gave her 

With a gracious gesture, 
And with words as pleasant 
As their own perfume. 

In her hands he placed them, 
1015 And her jewelled fingers 

Through the green leaves glistened 
Like the dews of morn; 

But she cast them from her. 
Haughty and indignant, 
1020 On the floor she threw them 

With a look of scorn. 

"Richer presents," said she, 
"Gave King Harald Gormson 
To the Queen, my mother, 
1025 Than such worthless weeds. 

"When he ravaged Norway, 
Laying waste the kingdom. 
Seizing scatt and treasure 
For her royal needs. 

1030 "But thou darest not venture 

Through the Sound to Vendland, 
My domains to rescue 
From King Burislaf ; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 359 



" Lest King Svend of Denmark, 
1035 Forked Beard, my brother, 

Scatter all thy vessels 
As the wind the chaff." 

Then up sprang King Olaf, 
Like a reindeer bounding, 
1040 With an oath he answered 

Thus the luckless Queen: 

" Never yet did Olaf 
Fear King Svend of Denmark; 
This right hand shall hale him 
1045 By his forked chin! " 

Then he left the chamber. 
Thundering through the doorway, 
Loud his steps resounded 
Down the outer stair. 

1050 Smarting with the insult, 

Through the streets of Drontheim 
Strode he red and wrathful, 
With his stately air. 

All his ships he gathered, 
1055 Summoned all his forces, 

Making his war levy 
In the region round; 

Down the coast of Norway, 
Like a flock of sea-gulls, 
1060 Sailed the fleet of Olaf 

Through the Danish Sound. 

With his own hand fearless. 
Steered he the Long Serpent, 
Strained the creaking cordage, 
1065 Bent each boom and gaff; 

Till in Vendland landing. 
The domains of Thyri 



360 Narrative Poems of Longfellow \ 

He redeemed and rescued ' 

From King Burislaf. 

1070 Then said Olaf, laughing, 

"Not ten yoke of oxen 

Have the power to draw us i 

Like a woman's hair! 

I; 

"Now I will confess it, 
1075 Better things are jewels j 

Then angelica stalks are ' 

For a Queen to wear." ^ 



XVII 

KING SVEND OF THE FOKKED BEARD 

Loudly the sailors cheered 

Svend of the Forked Beard, 
lOSO As with his fleet he steered 

Southward to Vendland; 

AMu re with their courses hauled 

All were together called, 

Under the Isle of Svald 
1085 Near to the mainland. 

After Queen Gunhild's death, 
So the old Saga saith, • 
Plighted King Svend his faith 

To Sigrid the Haughty; 
1090 And to avenge his bride, 

Soothing her wounded pride, 
Over the waters wide 

King Olaf sought he. 

Still on her scornful face, 
1095 Blushing with deep disgrace, 

Bore she the crimson trace 

Of Olaf's gauntlet; 
Like a malignant star, 
Blazing in heaven afar. 



Talcs of a Wnifsidc Inn 361 



1100 Red shone the angry scar 

Under her frontlet. 

Oft to King Svend she spake, 
"For thine own honor's sake, 
Shalt thou swift vengeance take 
1 1 05 On the vile coward! " 

Until the King at last, 
Gusty and overcast, 
Like a tempestuous i)last 
Threatened and lowered. 

1110 Soon as the Spring appeared, 

Svend of the Forked Beard 
High his red standard reared, 

ICager for battle; 
While every warlike Dane, 
1115 Seizing his arms again. 

Left all unsown the grain. 
Unhoused the cattle. 

Likewise the Swedisii King 
Summoned in haste a 'thing, 

1120 "\Vea{>()ns and men to l)ring 

In aid of Demnark; 
Eric the Norseman, too. 
As the war-tidings flew. 
Sailed with a chosen crew 

1125 From Lapland and Fimnark. 

So upon Easter day 

Sailed the three kings away, 

Out of the sheltered bay. 

In the bright season; 
1130 With them Earl Sigvald came, 

Eager for spoil and fame; 
Pity that such a name 

Stooped to such treason. 

Safe under Svald at last, 
1135 Now were their anchors cast. 

Safe from the sea and blast, 



362 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Plotted the three kings; 
AVhile, with a base intent, 
Southward Earl Sigvald went, 
1140 On a foul errand bent, 

Unto the Sea-kings. 

Thence to hold on his course, 
I^nto King Olaf s force, 
Lying within the hoarse 
1145 Mouths of Stet-haven; 

Him to ensnare and bring, 
ITnto the Danish king, 
Who his dead corse would fling 
Forth to the raven! 



XVIII 

KING OLAF AND EARL SIGVALD 

1150 On the gray sea-sands 

King Olaf stands. 
Northward and seaward 
He points with his hands. 

With eddy and whirl 
1155 The sea-tides curl, 

Washing the sandals 
Of Sigvald the Earl. 

The mariners shout. 
The ships swing about, 
1160 The yards are all hoisted, 

The sails flutter out. 

The war-horns are played, 
The anchors are weighed. 
Like moths in the distance 
1165 The sails flit and fade. 

The sea is like lead, 
The harbor hes dead, 



Talea of a Wayside Inn 363 

As a corse on the sea-shore, 
Whose spirit has fled! 

1170 On that fatal day, 

The histories say, 
Seventy vessels 
Sailed out of the bay. 

But soon scattered wide 
1175 O'er the billows they ride, 

While Sigvald and Olaf 
Sail side by side. 

Cried the Earl :'' Follow me! 
I your pilot will be, 
] 180 For I know all the channels 

Where flows the deep sea!" 

So into the strait 
Where his foes lie in wait. 
Gallant King Olaf 
1185 Sails to his fate! . 

Then the sea-fog veils 
The ships and their sails; 
Queen Sigrid the Haughty, 
Thy vengeance prevails! 



XIX 

KING OLAF's war-horns 

1190 "Strike the sails! " King Olaf said; 

"Never shall men of mine take flight; 

Never away from battle I fled, 

Never away from my foes! 
Let God dispose 
1195 Of my life in the fight! " 

"Sound the horns!" said Olaf the King; 
And suddenly through the drifting brume 



364 Narrative Poems oj Longjcllow 

The blare of the horns began to ring, 
Like the terrible trumpet shock 
1200 Of Regnarock, 

On the Day of Doom! 

Louder and louder the war-horns sang 
Over the level floor of the flood; 
All the sails eanie down with a clang, 
1205 And there in the mist overhead 
The sun hung red 
As a drop of blood. 

Drifting down on the Danish fleet 
Three together the ships were lashed, 
1210 So that neither should turn and retreat; 
In the midst, but in front of the rest 

The burnished crest 
Of the Serpent flashed. 

King Olaf stood on the quarter-deck, 
1215 With bow of ash and arrows of oak, 
His gilded shield was without a fleck. 
His helmet inlaid with gold, 

And in many a fold 
Hung his crimson cloak. 

1220 On the forecastle Ulf the Red 

Watched the lashing of the ships; 
"If the Serpent lie so far ahead, 
We shall have hard work of it here." 
Said he with a sneer 

1225 On his bearded lips. > 

King Olaf laid an arrow on string, 
"Have I a coward on board?" said he. 
"Shoot it another way, O King! " 
Sullenly answered I^lf, 
1230 The old sea-wolf; 

"You have need of me! " 

In front came Svend, the King of the Danes, 
Sweeping down with his fifty rowers; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 365 

To the right, the Swedish king with his thanes; 
1235 And on board of the Iron Beard 
Earl Eric steered 
To the left with his oars. 

"These soft Danes and Swedes," said the King, 
"At home with their wives had better stay, 
1240 Than come within reach of my Herpent's sting: 
But where Eric the Norseman leads 

Heroic deeds 
Will be done to-day! " 

Then as together the vessels crashed, 
1245 Eric severed the cables of hide, 

With which King Olaf's ships were lashed, 
And left them to drive and drift 

With the currents swift 
Of the outward tide. 

1250 Louder the war-horns growl and snarl. 

Sharper the dragons bite and sting! 

Eric the son of Hakon Jarl 

A death-drink salt as the sea 
Pledges to thee, 
1255 Olaf the King! 



XX 

EINAR TAMBERSKELVER 

It was Einar Tamberskelver 

Stood beside the mast; 
From his yew-bow, tipped with silver, 

Flew the arrows fast; 
1260 Aimed at Eric unavailing, 

As he sat concealed, 
Half behind the quarter-railing, 

Half behind his shield. 

First an arrow struck the tiller, 
1265 Just above his head; 



366 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

"Sing, O Eyvind Skaldaspillcr," 

Then Earl Eric said. 
"Sing the song of Hakon dying, 

Sing his funeral wail! " 
1270 And another arrow flying 

Grazed his coat of mail. 

Turning to a Lapland yeoman, 

As the arrow passed. 
Said Earl Eric, "Shoot that bowman 
1275 Standing by the mast." 

Sooner than the word was sj)oken 

Flew the yeoman's shaft; 
Einar's bow in twain was broken, 

Einar only laughed. 

1280 "What was that?" said Olaf, standing 

On the quarter-deck. 
"Something heard I like the stranding 

Of a shattered wreck." 
Einar then, the arrow taking 
1285 From the loosened string, 

Answered, "That was Nf)rway breaking 
From thy hand, O king!" 

"Thou art but a poor diviner," 
Straightway Olaf said; 
1290 "lake my bow, and swifter, Einar, 

Let thy shafts be sped." 
Of his bows the fairest choosing, 

Reached he from above; 
Einar saw the blood-drops oozing 
1295 Through his iron glove. 

But the bow was thin and narrow; 

At the first assay. 
O'er its head he drew the arrow, 

Flung the bow away; 
1300 Said, with hot and angry temper 

Flushing in his cheek, 
"Olaf! for so great a Kamper 

Are thy bows too weak! " 



Tales of a Way side Inn 367 

Then, with smile of joy defiant 
1305 . On his beardless Up, 

Scaled he, light and self-reliant, 

Erie's dragon-ship. 
Loose his golden locks were flowing, 
Bright his armor gleameil; 
1310 Like Saint Michael overthrowing 

Lucifer he seemed. 

XXI 

KING OLAF's DEATH-DHINK 

All day has the battle raged, 
All day have the ships engaged. 
But not yet is assuaged 
1315 The vengeance of Eric the Earl. 

The decks with blood are red, 
The arrows of death are sped. 
The ships are filled with the ilead 
And the spears the champions hurl. 

1320 They drift as wrecks on the tide. 
The grappling-irons are plied. 
The boarders climb up the side. 
The shouts are feeble and few. 

Ah! never shall Norway again 
1325 See her sailors come Ijack o'er the main; 
They all lie wounded or slain. 
Or asleep in the billows 1^1 ue! 

On the deck stands Olaf the King, 
Around him whistle and sing 
1330 The spears that the foemen fling. 

And the stones they hurl with their hands. 

In the midst of the stones and the spears, 
Kolbiorn, the marshal, appears, 
His shield in the air he uprears, 
1335 By the side of King Olaf he stands. 



368 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Over the slippery wreck 
Of the Long Serpent's deck 
Sweeps Eric with hardly a check, 
His lips with anger are pale; 

1340 He hews with his axe at the mast, 
Till it falls, with the sails overcast, 
Like a snow-covered pine in the vast 
Dim forests of Orkadale. 

Seeking King Olaf then, 
1345 He rushes aft with his men, 
As a hunter into the den 

Of the bear, when he stands at bay. 

"Remember Jarl Plakon! " he cries; ' 
When lo! on his wondering eyes, 
1350 Two kingly figures arise, 

Two Olafs in warlike array! 

Then Kolbiorn speaks in the ear 
Of King Olaf a word of cheer, 
In a whisper that none may hear, 
1355 With a smile on his tremulous lip; 

Two shields raised high in the air, 
Two flashes of golden hair. 
Two scarlet meteors' glare, 

And both have leaped from the ship. 

1360 Earl Eric's men in the boats 

Seize Kolbiorn's shield as it floats, 
And cry, from their hairy throats, 
"See! it is Olaf the King!". 

While far on the opposite side 
1365 Floats another shield on the tide 
Like a jewel set in the wide 
Sea-current's eddying ring. 

There is told a wonderful tale, 
How the King stripped off his mail, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 369 



1370 Like leaves of the brown sea-kale, 
As he swam beneath the. main; 

But the young grew old and gray, 
And never, by night or by day. 
In his kingdom of Norroway 
1375 Was King Olaf seen again! 

XXII 

THE NUN OF NIDAROS 

In the convent of Drontheim, 
Alone in her chamber 
Knelt Astrid the Abbess, 
At midnight, adoring, 
1380 Beseeching, entreating 

The Virgin and Mother. 

. She heard in the silence 
The voice of one speaking. 
Without in the darkness, 
1385 . In gusts of the night-wind 

Now louder, now nearer. 
Now lost in the distance. 

The voice of a stranger 
It seemed as she listened, 
1390 Of some one who answered, 

Beseeching, imploring, 
A cry from afar off 
She could not distinguish. 

The voice of Saint John, 
1395 The beloved disciple, 

Who wandered and waited 
The Master's appearance, 
Alone in the darkness, 
Unsheltered and friendless, 

1400 " It is accepted 

The angry defiance, 



370 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

The challenge of battle! 
It is accepted, 
But not with the weapons 
1405 Of war that thou wieldesti 

" Cross against corselet, 
Love against hatred, 
Peace-cry for war-cry! 
Patience is powerful; 
1410 He that o'ercometh 

Hath power o'er the nationsl 

"As torrents in summer. 
Half dried in their channels, 
Suddenly rise, though the 
1415 Sky is still cloudless, 

For rain has been falling 
Far off at their fountains; 

" So hearts that are fainting 
Crow full to o'erflowing, 
1420 Anil they that behold it 

Marvel, and know not 
That God at their foiuitains 
Far off has been raining! 



1425 



" Stronger than steel 
Is the sword of the Spirit; 
Swifter than arrows 
The light of the truth is. 
Greater than anger 
Is love, and subdueth! 

1430 "Thou art a phantom, 

A shape of the sea-mist, 
A shape of the brumal 
Rain, and the darkness 
Fearful and formless; 

1435 Day dawns and thou art not! 

"The dawn is not distant, 
Nor is the night starless; 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 371 

Love is eternal! 
God is still God, and 
His faith shall not fail us; 
Christ is eternal! " 



IXTERU^DE 

A STRAIN of music closed the tale, 
A low, monotonous, funeral wail, 
That with its cadence, wild and sweet, 
Made the long Saga more complete. 

5 "Thank God," the Theologian said, 

"Tlu! reign of violence is dead. 
Or dying surely from the world; 
W hile Love triumphant reigns instead, 
And in a brighter sky o'erhead 

10 His blessed banners are unfurled. 

And most of all thank God for this: 
The war and waste of clashing creeds 
Now end in words, and not in dee(ls, 
And no one suffers loss, or bleeds, 

15 For thoughts that men call heresies. 

"I .stand without here in the porch, 

1 hear the bell's melodious din, 

1 hear the organ peal within, 

I hear the prayer, with words that scorch 

20 Like sparks from an inverted torch, 

I hear the sermon upon sin, 
\\"\t\\ threatenings of the last accf)unt. 
And all, translated in the air. 
Reach me but as our dear Lord's Prayer, 

25 And as the Sermon on the Mount. 

"Must it be Calvin, and not Christ, 
Must it be Athanasian creeds, 
Or holy water, books, and beads? 
Must struggling souls remain content 
30 With councils and decrees of Trent? 

And can it be enough for these 



;^72 Narrddre Pocmft of Longfellow 

The Christian Church the year embahns 
With evergreens and bou«i;hs of pahns, 
And fills the air with litanies? 

35 " I know that yonder Pharisee 

Thanks God that he is not like nie; 
In my hmniliation dressed, 
1 only stand and l)eat my breast, 
And pray for human charity. 

40 " Not to one church alone, but seven 

The voice prophetic spake from heaven; 
And unto each the promise came, 
l)iv(>rsified, but still the same; 
For him that overcomcth are 

45 The new name written on the stone, 

The raiment white, the crown, the throne, 
And I will give him the Morning Star! 

"Ah! to how many Faith has been 
No evidence of things unseen, 

5U But a dim shadow, that recasts 

Tlu' creed of the Phantasiasts, 
For whom no Man of Sorrows died, 
For whom the Tragedy Divine 
Was but a symbol and a sign, 

55 And Christ a phantom crucifieil! 

" For others a diviner creed 
Is living in the life they lead. 
The passing of tluMr beautiful feet 
Blesses the pavement of the street, 
6U And all their looks and wortls repeat 

Old Fuller's saying, wise and sweet, 
Not as a vulture, but a dove, 
The Holy Ghost came from above. 

"And this brings back to me a tale 
65 So sad the hearer well may cpiail, 

And question if such things can be; 
Yet in the chronicles of Spain 
Down the dark pages runs this stain, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 373 

And naught can wash them white again, 
70 So fearful is the tragedy. 

THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 

TOHQUEMADA 

In the heroic days when Ferdinand 

And Isabella rulfd the Si)anish land, 

And Torqueniada, with his subtle brain, 

Iluicil tlicni, as Grand In(|uisit()r of Spain, 
5 In a great castle near N'alladoiid, 

Moated and high and by fair woodlands hiil, 

There dwelt, as from the chronicles we learn, 

An old Hidalgo proud and taciturn, 

Whf)se name has perished, with his towers of stone, 
10 And all his actions save this one alone; 

This one, so terrible, perhaps 't were best 

If it, too, were forgotten with the rest; 

Tidess, perchance, our ey(\s can see therein 

The martyrdom triumphant o'er the sin; 
15 A double picture, with its gloom and glow, 

The S|)l(>n(lor overhead, the death below. 

This sombre man covmted each day as lost 
On whieh his feet no sacred threshold crossed; 
And when he chancecl the passing Host to meet, 

20 He knelt and prayed devoutly in the stre<'t; 

Oft he confessed; and with each mutinous thought, 
As with wild beasts at Ephesus, he fought. 
In deep contrition scourged himself in Lent, 
Walked in processions, with his head down bent, 

25 At plays of Corpus Christi oft was seen. 

And on Palm Sunday bore his bough of green. 
His only pastime was to hunt the l>oar 
Through tangled thickets of the forest hoar, 
Or with his jingling mules to hurry down 

30 To some grand bull-fight in the neighboring town. 
Or in the crowd with lighted taper stand, 
When Jews were burned, or banished from the land. 
Then stirred within him a tumultuous joy; 
The demon whose delight is to destroy 



374 Xarrative Poetns of Longfellow 

35 Shook him, and shouted with a trumpet tone, 
"Kill! Kill! and let the Lord find out his own!" 

And now, in that old castle in the wood, 
His daughters, in the dawn of womanhood, 
Returning from their convent school, had made 

40 Resplendent with their bloom the forest shade, 
Reminding him of their dead mother's face, 
When first she came into that gloomy place, — 
A memory in his heart as dim and sweet 
As moonlight in a solitary street, 

45 Where the same rays, that lift the sea, are thrown 
Lovely but powerless upon walls of stone. 
These two fair daughters of a mother dead 
Were all the tlream had left him as it fled. 
A joy at first, and then a growing care, 

50 As if a voice witliin him cried, "Hcware!" 
A vague presentiment (jf impending doom. 
Like ghostly footsteps in a vacant room. 
Haunted him day and night; a formless fear 
That dtnith to some one of his house was near, 

55 With dark surmises of a hidden crime, 
Made life itself a death before its time. 
Jealous, suspicious, with no sense of shame, 
A spy upon his daughters be became; 
With velvet slippers, noiseless on the floors, 

60 He glidetl softly through half-open doors; 
Now in the room, and now upon the stair. 
He stood beside them ere they were aware; 
He listened in the passage when they talked. 
He watched them from the casement when they walked, 

65 He saw the gypsy haunt the river's side 

He saw the monk among the cork-trees glitle; 
And, tortured by the mystery and the doubt 
Of some dark secret, past his finding out, 
Baffled he paused; then reassured again 

70 Pursued the flying phantom of his brain. 

He watched them even when they knelt in church; 
And then, descending lower in his search. 
Questioned the servants, and with eager eyes 
Listened incredulous to their replies; 

75 The gypsy? none had seen her in the wood! 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 375 

The monk? a mendicant in search of food! 
At length the awful revelation came, 
Crushing at once his pride of birth and name, 
The hopes his yearning bosom forward cast, 

80 And the ancestral glories of the past, 
All fell together crumbling in disgrace, 
A turret rent from battlement to l3ase. 
His daughters talking in the dead of night 
In their own chamlier, anil without a light, 

85 Listening, as he was wont, he overheard, 

And learned the dreadful secret, word i)y word; 
And hurrying from his castle, with a cry 
He raised his hands to the unpitying sky, 
Rejx-ating one dread word, till bush and tree 

90 Caught it, and shuddering answered, "Heresy!" 

Wrapped in his cloak, his hat drawn o'er his face 
Now hurrying forward, now with lingering [)ace, 
He walked all night the alleys of his park, 
With one unseen coni{)anion in the dark, 
9o The Demon who within him lay in wait. 

And by his presence turned his love to hate. 

Forever muttering in an undertone, 

"Kill! kill! and let the Lord find out his own!" 

T'pon the morrow, after early Mass, 
100 While yet the dew was glistening on the grass, 
And all the woods were musical with birds, 
The old Hidalgo, uttering fearful words, 
Walked homeward with the Priest, and in his room 
Summoned his trembling daughters to their doom. 
105 When questioned, with brief answers they replied, 
Nor when accused evaded or denied; 
Expostulations, passionate appeals, 
All that the human heart most fears or feels. 
In vain the Priest with earnest voice essayed, 
110 In vain the father threatened, wept, and prayed; 
Until at last he said, with haughty mien, 
"The Holy Office, then must intervene! " 

And now the Grand Inquisitor of Spain, 
With all the fifty horsemen of his train, 



376 Narrative Poems of Jjongfellow 

1 15 His awful name resounding like the blast, 
Of funeral trumpets, as he onward passed, 
Came to Valladolid, and there began 
To harry the rich Jews with fire and ban. 
To him the Hidalgo went, and at the gate 

120 Demanded audience on affairs of state. 
And in a secret chamber stood before 
A venerable grayl)eard of fourscore, 
Dressed in the hood and habit of a friar; 
Out of his eyes flashed a consuming fire, 

125 And in his hand the mystic horn he held, 

Which poison and all noxious charms dispelled. 
He heard in silence the Hidalgo's tale, 
Then answered in a voice that made him quail: 
"Son of the Church! when Abraham of old 

130 To sacrifice his only son was told. 

He did not i)ause to parley nor protest, 
But hasteiieil to obey the Lord's behest. 
In him it was accounted rightef)usness; 
The Holy Church expects of thee no less! " 

135 A sacred frenzy seized the father's brain. 

And Mercy from that hour implored in vain. 
Ah! who will e'er believe the words I say? 
His daughters he accused, and the same day 
They both were cast into the dungeon's gloom, 

140 That dismal antechamber of the tomb. 

Arraigned, condemned, and sentenced to the flame, 
The secret torture and the public shame. 

Then to the Grand Inquisitor once more 
The Hidalgo went, more eager than before, 

145 And said: "When Abraham offered up his son. 
He clave the wood wherewith it might be done. 
By his example taught, let me too bring 
Wood from the forest for my offering! " 
And the deep voice, without a pause, replied: 

150 "Son of the Church! by faith now justified, 
Complete thy sacrifice, even as thou wilt; 
The Church absolves thy conscience from all guilt! " 
Then this most wretched father went his way 
Into the woods, that round his castle lay, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 377 

155 Where once his daughters in their childhood played 
With their young mother in the sun and shade. 
Now all the leaves had fallen; the branches bare. 
Made a perpetual moaning in the air, 
And screaming from their eyries overhead 

160 The ravens sailed athwart the sky of lead. 

With his own hands he lopped the boughs and bound 

Fagots, that crackled with fore])oding sound, 

And on his mules, caparisoned and gay 

With bells and tassels, sent them on their way. 

165 Then with his mind on one dark purpose bent. 
Again to the hujuisitor he went, 
And said: "Behold, the fagots I have brought, 
And now, lest my atonement be as naught. 
Grant mo one more request, one last desire — 

170 With my own hand to light the funeral fire!" 
And Torquemada answered from his seat, 
"Son of the Church! Thine offering is complete; 
Her servants through all ages shall not cease 
To magnify thy deed. Depart in peace! " 

175 Upon the market-place, huilded of stone 

The scaffold rose, whereon Death claimed his own. 
At the four corners, in stern attitude. 
Four statues of the ITcl>rew prophets stood. 
Gazing with calm indifference in their eyes 

180 Upon this place of human sacrifice. 

Round which was gathering fast the eager crowd, 
With clamor of voices dissonant and loud. 
And every roof and window was alive 
With restless gazers, swarming like a hive. 

185 The church-bells tolled, the chant of monks drew near, 
Loud trumpets stammered forth their notes of fear, 
A line of torches smoked along the street, 
There was a stir, a rush, a tramp of feet. 
And, with its banners floating in the air, 

190 Slowly the long procession crossed the square, 
And, to the statues of the Prophets bound, 
The victims stood, with fagots piled around. 
Then all the air a blast of trumpets shook, 



378 Narrative Poems of Longfelloiv 

And louder sang the monks with bell and book, 
195 And the Hidalgo, lofty, stern, and proud, 

• Lifted his torch, and bursting through the crowd, 
Lighted in haste the fagots, and then fled. 
Lest those imploring eyes should strike him dead! 

O pitiless skies! why did your clouds retain 
230 For peasants' fields their floods of hoarded rain? 
() {)itiless earth! why op(n(Ml no abyss 
To bury in its chasm a crime like this? 

That night, a mingled column of fire and smoke 
From the dark thickets of the forest broke, 

205 And, glaring o'er the landscape leagues away, 
Made all the fields and hamlets bright as day. 
"Wrapped in a sheet of flame the castle blazed, 
And as the villagers in terror gazed. 
They saw the figure of that cruel knight 

210 Lean from a window in the turret's height, 
His ghastly face illumined with the glare, 
His hands upraised al)Ove his head in prayer, 
Till the floor sank beneath him, and ho fell 
Down the black hollow of that burning well. 

215 Three centuries and more above his bones 

Have piled the ol)livious years like funeral stones; 
His name has perished with him, and no trace 
Remains on earth of his afflicted race; 
But Torquemada's name, with clouds o'ercast, 

220 Looms in the distant landscape of the Past, 
Like a burnt tower upon a blackened heath. 
Lit by the fires of burning woods beneath! 



INTERLUDE 

Thus closed the tale of guilt and gloom, 
That cast upon each listener's face 
Its shadow, and for some brief space 
L^nbroken silence filled the room. 
The Jew was thoughtful and distressed; 
Upon his memory thronged and pressed 



- i 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 379 

The persecution of his race, 
Their wrongs and sufferings and disgrace; 
His head was sunk upon his breast, 
10 And from his eyes ahernatc came 

Flashes of wrath and tears of shame. 

The Student first the silence broke. 

As one who long has lain in wait, 

With purpose to retaliate, 
15 And thus he dealt the avenging stroke. 

"In such a company as this, 

A tale so tragic seems amiss, 

That by its terrible control 

O'ermasters and drags down the soul 
20 Into a fathomless abyss. 

The Italian tales that you disdain, 

Some merry Night of Straparole, 

Or Machiavelli's Belphagor, 

^^'ould cheer us and delight us more, 
2.5 Give greater pleasure and less pain 

Than your grim tragedies of Spain!" 

And here the Poet raised his hand, 
With such entreaty and command, 
It stopped discussion at its birth, 
30 And said- "The story I shall tell 

Has meaning in it, if not mirth; 
Listen, and iK'ar what once befell 
The merry birds of Killingworth! " 



THE POET'S TALE 

THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 

It was the season, when through all the land 
The merle and mavis build, and building sing 

Those lovely lyrics, written by His hand. 

Whom Saxon Csedmon calls the Blithe-heart King; 

When on the boughs the purple buds expand. 
The banners of the vanguard of the Spring, 

And rivulets, rejoicing, rush and leap, 



380 Narrative Poems of Lojigjcllow 

And wave their fluttering signals from the steep. 

The robin and the bhie-bird, piping loud, 
10 Filled all the blossoming orchards with their glee; 
The sparrows chirped as if they still were proud 
Their race in Holy Writ should mentioned be; 
And hungry crows assembled in a crowd, 
Clamored their piteous prayer incessantly, 
15 Knowing who hears the ravens cry, and said: 
"Give us, O Lord, this day our daily bread!" 

Across the Sound the birds of passage sailed, 

Speaking some unknown language strange and sweet 

Of tropic isle remote, and passing hailed 
20 The village with the cheers of all their fleet; 

Or quarrelling together, laughed and railed 
Like foreign sailors, landed in the street 

Of seaport town, and with outlandish noise 

Of oaths and gibberish frightening girls and boys. 

25 Thus came the jocund Spring in Killingworth, 
Li fabulous days, some hundred years ago; 
And thrifty farmers, as they tilled the earth. 
Heard with alarm the cawing of the crow, 
That mingled with the universal mirth, 
30 Cassandra-like, prognosticating woe; 

They shook their heads, and doomed with dreadful words 
To swift destruction the whole race of birds. 

And a town-meeting was convened straightway 
To set a price upon the guilty heads 
35 Of these marauders, who, in lieu of pay. 

Levied black-mail upon the garden beds 
And corn-fields, and beheld without dismay 

The awful scarecrow, with his fluttering shreds; 
The skeleton that waited at their feast, 
40 Whereby their sinful pleasure was increased. 

Then from his house, a temple painted white, 
With fluted columns, and a roof of red. 

The Squire came forth, august and splendid sight! 
Slowly descending, with majestic tread, 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 381 

45 Three flights of steps, nor looking left nor right, 

Down the long street he walked, as one who said, 
" A town that boasts inhabitants like me 
Can have no lack of good society! " 

The Parson, too, appeared, a man austere, 
50 The instinct of whose nature was to kill; 

The wrath of God he preached from year to year, 

And read, with fervor, Edwards on the AVill; 
His favorite pastime was to slay the deer 
In Summer on some Adirondac hill; 
55 E'en now, while walking down the rural lane, 

He lopped the wayside lilies with his cane. 

From the Academy, whose belfry crowned 

The hill of Science with its vane of brass. 
Came the Preceptor, gazing idly round, 
60 Now at the clouds, and now at the green grass. 

And all absorbed in reveries profound 

Of fair Almira in the upper class, 
Who was, as in a sonnet he had said. 
As pure as w^ater, and as good as bread. 

65 And next the Deacon issued from his door, 

In his voluminous neck-cloth, white as snow; 
A suit of sable bombazine he wore; 

His form was ponderous, and his step was slow; 
There never was so wise a .man before; 
70 He seemed the incarnate ''Well, I told you so! " 

And to perpetuate his great renown 
There was a street named after him in town. 

These came together in the new town-hall, 
With sundry farmers from the region round. 
75 The Squire presided, dignified and tall. 

His air impressive and his reasoning sound; 
111 fared it with the birds, both great and small; 
Hardly a friend in all that crowd they found. 
But enemies enough, who every one 
80 Charged them with all the crimes beneath the sun. 

When thev had ended, from his place apart, 
Rose the Preceptor, to redress the wrong. 



382 Xarrative Poems of Longfdloiv 

4 

And, trembling like a steed before the start, 

Look round bewildered on the expectant throng; 
85 Then thought of fair Almira, and took heart 

To spoak out what was in him, clear and strong, 
Alike n^gardless of their smile or frown, 
And quite determined not to be laughed down. 

"Plato, anticipating th(! Reviewers, 
90 From his Republic baninhed without pity 

The Poets; in this little town of yours, 

You put to death, by means of a Committee, 
The ballad-singers and the Troubadours, 
The street-musicians of the heavenly city, 
95 The birds, who make sweet music for us all 

In our dark hours, as David did for Saul. 

"The thrush that carols at the dawn of day 
From the green steeples of the piny wood; 

The oriole in the elm; the noisy jay, 
100 Jargoning like a foreigner at his food; 

The blue-bird balanced on some top-most spray, 
Flooding with melody the neighborhood; 

Linnet and meadow-lark, and all the throng 

That dwell in nests, and have the gift of song. 

105 "You slay them all! and wherefore? for the gain 

Of a scant handful more or less of wheat, 
Or rye, or barley, or some other grain, 

Scratched up at random by industrious feet. 
Searching for worm or weevil after rain! 
110 Or a few cherries, that are not so sweet 

As are the songs these uninvited guests 
Sing at their feast with comfortable breasts. 

"Do you ne'er think what wondrous beings these? 
Do you ne'er think who made them, and who taught 
115 The dialect they speak, where melodies 
Alone are the interpreters of thought? 
Whose household words are songs in many keys. 

Sweeter than instrument of man e'er caught! 
Whose habitations in the tree-tops even 
120 Are halfway houses on the road to heaven! 



Tales of a Wayside Inn 38.':5 

"Think, every morning when the sun peeps through 
The dim, leaf-latticed windows of the grove, 

How jubilant the happy birds renew 
Their old, melodious madrigals of love! 
125 And when you think of this, remember too 

'Tis alwaj^s morning somewhere, and above 

The awakening continents, from shore to shore, 

Somewhere the birds are singing evermore. 

"Think of your woods and orchards without birdsl 
130 Of empty nests that cling to boughs and beams 
As in an idiot's brain remembered words 

Hang empty 'mid the cobwe^js of his dreams! 
Will bleat of flocks or bellowing of herds 

Make up for the lost music, when your teams 
135 Drag home the stingy harvest, and no more 

The feathered gleaners follow to your door? 

"What! would you rather see the incessant stir 
Of insects in the windrows of the hay, 

And hear the locust and the grasshopper 
140 Their melancholy hurdy-gurdies play? 

Is this more pleasant to you than the whir 
Of meadow-lark, and its sweet roundelay. 

Or twitter of little field-fares, as you take 

Your nooning in the shade of bush and brake? 

145 "You call them thieves and pillagers; V>ut know 
They are the winged wardens of your farms, 
WTio from the cornfields drive the insidious foe 

And from your harvests keep a hundred harms; 
Even the blackest of them all, the crow, 
150 Renders good service as your man-at-arms. 

Crushing the beetle in his coat of mail. 
And crying havoc on the slug and snail. 

" How can I teach your children gentleness, 
And mercy to the weak, and reverence 
155 For Life, which, in its weakness or excess, 

Is still a gleam of God's omnipotence, 

Or Death, which, seeming darkness, is no less 
The selfsame light, although averted hence, 



384 Xarraiive Poems of LongjcUoiv 

AVhen by your laws, your actions, and your speech, 
160 You contradict the very things I teach?" 

"With this he closed; and through the audience went 
A murmur, like the rustle of dead leaves; 

The farmers laughed and nodded, and some bent 
Their yellow heads together like their sheaves; 
165 Men have no faith in fuic-spim sentiment 

Who put their trust in bullocks and in beeves. 

The birds were doomed; and, as the record shows, 

A bounty olTered for the heads of crows. 

There was another audience out of reach, 
1 70 Who had no voice nor vote in making laws. 

But in the papers read his little speech. 

And crowned his modest temples with applause; 
They made him conscious, each one more than each. 
He still was victor, van<iuished in their cause. 
175 Sweetest of all the applause he won from thee, 
() fair Almira at the Academy! 

And so the dreadful massacre began; 

O'er fields and orchards, and o'er woodland crests. 
The ceaseless fusillade of terror ran, 
ISO Dead fell the birds, with bloodstains on their breasts, 

Or wounded crept away from sight of man. 

While the young died of famine in their nests; 
A slaughter to be told in groans, not words. 
The very St. Bartholomew of Birds! 

185 The Summer came, and all the birds were dead; 
The days were like hot coals; the very ground 
Was burned to ashes; in the orchards fed 

Myriads of caterpillars, and around 
The cultivated fiekls and garden beds 
190 Hosts of devouring insects crawled, and found 

No foe to check their march, till they had made 
The land a desert without leaf or shade. 

Devoured by worms, like Herod, was the town, 
Because, like Herod, it had ruthlessly 
195 Slaughtered the Innocents. From the trees spun down 



Tales of a W(njsick //?r< 385 

The canker-worms upon the passersby, 
Upon each woman's bonnet, shawl, and j^own, 

Who shook them off with just a little cry; 
They were the terror of each favorite walk, 
2 00 The endless theme of all the village talk. 

The farmers grew impatient, but a (ovf 

Confessed their error, and would not complain, 

For after all, the best thing one can do 
When it is raining, is to let it rain. 
205 Then they repealed the law, although they knew 

It would not call the deail to life again; 

As schoolboys, finding their mistake too late. 

Draw a wet sponge across the accusing slate. 

That year in Killingworth the Autumn came 
210 Without the light of his majestic look, 

The wonder of the falling tongues of flame 

The illumined pages of his l)ooni's-I)ay book. 
A few lost leaves blushed crimson with their shame 
And drownetl them.selves despairing in the brook, 
215 While the wild wind went moaning everywhere, 

Lamenting the dead children of the air! 

But the next Spring a stranger sight was seen, 
A sight that never yet by bard was sung, 

As great a wonder as it would have been 
220 If some dumb animal had found a tongue! 

A wagon, overarched with evergreen. 

Upon whose boughs were wicker cages hung. 

All full of singing birds, came down tlie street. 

Filling the air with music wild and sweet. 

225 From all the country round these birds were brought, 
By order of the town, with anxious quest. 
And, loosened from their wicker prisons sought 

In woods and fields the places they loved best. 
Singing loud canticles, which many thought 
230 Were satires to the authorities addres.sed. 

While others, listening in green lanes, averred 
Such lovely music never had been heard! 



386 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 



But blither still and louder carolled they 
Upon the morrow, for they seemed to know 
235 It was the fair Almira's wedding-day, 

And everywhere, around, above, below, 
When the Preceptor bore his bride away. 

Their songs burst forth in joyous overflow, 
And a new heaven bent over a new earth 
2 40 Amid the sunny farms of Killingworth. 

FINALE 

The hour was late; the fire burned low, 
The Landlord's eyes were closed in sleep, 
And near the story's end a deep 
Sonorous sound at times was heard, 
5 As when the distant bagpipes blow. 

At this all laughed; the Landlord stirred. 
As one awaking from a swound, 
And, gazing anxiously around. 
Protested that he had not slept, 
10 But only shut his eyes, and kept 

His ears attentive to each word. 

Then all arose, and said "Good Night." 
Alone remained the drowsy Squire 
To rake the embers of the fire, 

15 And quench the waning parlor light; 

AVhile from the \vindov/s, here and there. 
The scattered lamps a moment gleamed. 
And the illumined hostel seemed 
The constellation of the Bear, 

20 Downward, athwart the misty air, 

Sinking and setting toward the sun. 
Far off the village clock struck one. 



NOTES 



THE SKELETON IX ARMOR 

Line 5. Eastern balms. Spices and aromatics used in the Egyptian 
art of embalming. 

11. Probably alluding to the Aurora Borealis or Northern Lights. 

17. Viking. The word means literally rrccA:- or bay-dweller, and 
through its origin calls to mind the Norse life of the middle ages 
from the eighth to the eleventh century, when roving, piracy, and 
plundering were regarded by the nortiiern Teutonic peoples as honor- 
able activities. During the period above mentioned, the vikings 
harried the coasts of England. Normandy, and other parts of Europe, 
and founded settlements of more or less permanence in England. 
France, Iceland, Spain, Sicily, and other parts of tlie world, extending 
probably even to America. Tiie vikings are famous in Scandina- 
vian sagas for their daring liravery and other heroic vii-tues charac- 
teristic of the northern Teutonic tribes. 

19. Skald. A name given to the ancient Scandinavian l)ar(ls or 
singers. Also spelled scald. 

20. Saga. A Scandinavian myth or heroic story. The word in- 
cludes history in its solder sense as well as pure legend. 

25. Northern Land. Eastern Scandinavia is meant. Consult a 
map of the Baltic region. 

28. Gerfalcon. A species of hawk used in falconry. Also spelled 
gyrfulcon and jerfalcon. 

38. Were-wolf. Literally man-wolf, "wer" being an Anglo-Saxon 
word for "man.'^ According to medieval superstition, the were-wolf 
was a person who possessed the power of changing himself, voluntarily 
or involuntarily, into a wolf, and in that form practiced cannibalism. 
Compare the note on Loup-garou, "Evangeline," line 280. 

49. Wassail-bout. A drinking contest. Wassail, deriverl from the 
Anglo-Saxon weshal, be whole, i. e. health to you, an ancient drinking 
salutation, came to mean later the drink itself. 

53. Berserk. A Norse warrior who fought with frenzied fury naked 
and intoxicated. 

57-64. Of what Shakesperian hero and heroine are the.se lines sug- 
gestive? 

79. Minstrels. Retainers in the lord's castle whose business it 
was to play musical instruments for the entertainment of their lord 

387 



388 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

or wandering gleemen who sang and recited in hall and castle. In a pri- 
vate way, minstrels were prominent characters dnring the middle ages. 

110. Skaw. Cape Skagen at the northeastern extremity of Den- 
mark, (Jutland). 

122. Cormorant. A sea-raven proverbial for gluttony. 

134. Lofty tower. The old Stone Tower at Newport, which the 
poet associates with the heroic skeleton, is by some supposed to have 
been erected by the Norsemen. See page .'JG. 

159. Skoal! "In Scandinavia, this is the customary salutation 
when drinking a health. I have slightly changed the orthography of 
the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation." 

— Longfellow's Note. 

THE WRECK OP THE HESPERUS 

14. The Spanish Main. A popular name for the waters of the 
northern coast of South America, so-called because of the route of 
the Spanish merchant ships of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
on their way to and from South Amerii-an ports. The early period of 
European colonization of America is characterized by conflicts between 
the merchants of the several nations, by whom war, piracy, and priva- 
teering were hardly distinguished. The "Spanish Main" suggests 
• treasure-ships, buried treasure, and all that pertains to the life of a 
buccaneer, and calls to mind expeditions nuide famous by such men as 
Magellan. Sir John Hawkins, Sir Francis Drake, Captain Kidd. and a 
score of others. 

17. -V popular sign indicating stormy weather. 

55-56. Cf. Matthew viii: 23-26. 

60. Norman's Woe. The name of a reef olf the coast of Gloucester, 
Massachusetts. 

EVANGELINE: A TALE OF ACADIE 

3. Druids. Priests of ancient Britain and Gaul, whose mysterious 
rites have become the source of many literary references. The oak 
and the mistletoe were peculiarly sacred to the Druids. The chief 
source of our knowledge of the Druids and Druidism is Coesars' Com- 
mentaries, part of which was written after his invasions of Britain, in 
55 and 54 B. C. 

4. Harpers. The word suggests the minstrels of the middle ages. 
For a vivid description of a medieval harper, read the Introduction 
to Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel. 

What is the precise effect of this double simile descriptive of the 
Acadian pines? 



N'otes on Evangeline 389 

Compare "The Song of Hiawatha," Introduction, lines 79-115. for 
similarity of appeal to the reader. 

20. Acadian land. The early French and present poetic name for 
the English province of Nova Scotia has, in the French records, a 
variety of si>ellings: — Cadie, Acadie, Arcadia, Accadia, L'Acadie, the 
several forms being used indiscriminately. The word is a French 
adaptation of an Indian name for place; the English Quoddy comes 
from the same Indian root. Basin of Minus. An eastern arm of the 
Bay of Fundy. 

21. Grand-Pr^. Tlie French for Ing meadow. The present village 
is on the site of the old French village, hut there is nothing in the latter 
that suggests the former. See line 1.') of the poeni. 

24. Dikes. Suggestively reminiscent of the European home of the 
French colonists who settled Acadia, lG33-lG;iS, under the leadership 
of Kizillai and Charnise. Their ancestors, dwelling in the marshes of 
western France, had been accustomed to protect themselves from 
invasions of the sea by means of artificial dykes, an:l the Acad- 
ians found it natural to continue the same practice in a region 
similarly .situated. 

29. Blomidon. A peak of red sandstone jutting out as a promon- 
tory four hundred feet high into the entrance to Minas liasin. 

30. Sea-foys. This region of the North American coast is famous 
for its dense fogs, occasioned by the meeting of the warm waters of 
the Gulf Stream with the cold currents of the north. What is the force 
of the figtire in this line? 

33-57. The idyllic description of the Acadian village given here is 
based on the French account of the .settlers written by Abb^'^ Raynal. 
and. though highly colored, is probably not an over-statement of the 
real conditions. 

34. Normandy. The name of a division of France lying between 
Flanders and Brittany and opposite to the southern coast of Eng- 
land. Henries. Probably Henry III and Henry IV, 1574-1610,. are 
meant. They were Kings of France just prior to the time of the 
French settlement of Acadia. 

35. Thatched were the roofs. Thatched roofs were made of straw 
or reeds so arranged as to shed water. They were used by primitive 
people as well as by civilized, and are not characteristic of the former 
any more than of the latter. 

39. Caps and kiriles. The characteristic dress of the French 
peasants. "Kirtle" was sometimes applied to the jacket, sometimes to 
the train or upper petticoat attached to it. Both garments constituted 
the full kirtle: either one the half kirtle. 

41. Gossiping looms. Why gossiping? 



390 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

49. Angelus. A bell rung in Roman Catholic countries at morning 
noon, and night, as a call to recite the Angelus Domini, a devotion com- 
memorative of the Annunciation. (See Luke i: 28-38.) 

72. Hyssop. A plant used by the Jews in their purifications. 
Cf. Exodus xii: 22; Leviticus xiv: 4; Hebrews ix: 19. 

74. Missal. A book containing the service for the celebrations of 
mass throughout the year. 

87. Penthouse. A roof with a single slope affixed by its upper 
edge to the wall of a building. 

93. Wains. Poetic for wagons. 

96. Peter. Compare Matthew xxvi: 75. 

102. Mutation. Changes of wind and season. 

107. Hem of her garment. Reminiscent of Matthew ix: 20-22? 

122. Plain-song. A variety of old church music not subject to 
strict rules of time but following the word-accent; called sometimes 
the Gregorian chant. 

133. The French have a similar saying, "Guests going into the 
wedding." 

137. "If the eyes of one of the young of a swallow be put out, the 
mother bird will bring from the sea-shore a little stone, which will 
inmiediately restore its sight; fortunate is the person who finds this 
little stone in the nest, for it is a miraculous remedy." (Quoted by 
Wright in his Literature and Superstitions of England in the Middle 
Ages from Pluquet's Contes Populaires.) 

144. Saint Eulalie. Pluquet gives in his book of Norman super- 
stitions the proverbial saying that if the sun shines on Saint Eulalie's 
day (February 12), there will be plenty of apples and cider. 

149. The sign of the Scorpion. The eighth sign of the zodiac, 
entered by the sun about October 20. Consult a geography or 
physiography and determine precisely what is meant by the "retreat- 
ing sun." 

153. Jacob. Compare Genesis xxxii: 24-29. 

159. Summer of All-Saints. The season of Indian Summer, called 
by the French Saint Martin's Summer. All-Saints Day is the first of 
November; Saint Martin's, the eleventh. 

170. The Persian. Xerxes. Herodotus gives the story in the 
Seventh Book of his History of the Persian Wars. Xerxes found a 
beautiful plane-tree and was so charmed by it that he dressed it with 
mantles and jewels as one might a woman, and placed it in the care 
of a special guard. 

205. Pewter plates. At the time of this story, and prior thereto, 
tableware and domestic utensils were commonly made of pewter. 

209. The geographical references here give us the extremities of 



Notes on Evangeline 391 

France, and indicate that the ancestors of the Acadiaus were not con- 
fined to the low region of western France. 

228. Harvest moon. The full moon that falls nearest the autumnal 
equinox. The season is attended in some countries with unusual festivity. 

238. Gaspereaux. A river flowing into the Basin of Miuas just 
north of Grand-Pre. 

239. Haliburton, in his History of Nova Scotia, quotes in full the 
command as given by Colonel Winslow: 

"To the inha))itants of the District of Grand Pr6, Minas, River 
Canard, «S:c; as well ancient, as young men and lads: 

Whereas, his Excellency the Governor has instructed us of his late 
resolution, respecting the matter proposed to the inhabitants, and has 
ordered us to communicate the same in person, his Excellency, being 
desirous that each of them should be fully satisfied of his Majesty's 
intentions, which he has also ordered us to communicate to you, such 
as they have been given to him, We therefore order and strictly en- 
join, by these presents, all of the inhal^itants, as well of the above 
named District, as of all the other Districts, both old men and young 
men, as well as all the lads of ten years of age, to attend at the church 
at Grand-Pr6, on Friday, the fifth instant, at three o'clock in the after- 
noon, that we may impart to them what we are ordered to communi- 
cate to them; declaring that no excuse will be admitted on any pre- 
tence whatever, on pain of forfeiting goods and chattels, in default of 
real estate. Given at Grand-Pr6, 2nd September, 1755. and 29th year 
of his Majesty's Reign. John Winslow." 

Note the ambiguity and vagueness of the mandate. 

249. Louisburg, Beau Sejour, Port Royal. Louisburg, the capital 
of Cape Breton, was taken by the English in 1745, restored to France 
by the treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle, 1748, and retaken by the English in 
1757. The loss to the French was great, in that the city controlled 
the entrance to the Gulf and River of St. Lawrence. Beau Sejour was 
taken June 12, 1755 just prior to the events of this story. The name 
was changed to Fort Cumberland. Situated on the neck of land be- 
tween Acadia and the main-land, its position was one of great im- 
portance. Port Royal, the principal town of Acadia, founded by the 
French in 1604, had been conquered by the English in 1690, but had 
been restored to the French by treaty in 1697. It was again seized by 
the English in 1710 and by the Peace of Utrecht, 171.3, had been defi- 
nitely ceded to Great Britain with all Acadia. The name was changed 
to Annapolis Royal. The order of the references in this line is not 
chronological, but was determined, perhaps, by the demands of the 
meter. 



392 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

261. Glebe. Poetic for soil. 

275. The War. In all probability. King George's War. 1744-1748. 

280. Loup-garou. The stories of the Loup-garou, or were-wolf, 
and the LHiche, and the miraculous properties of spiders, clover, and 
horseshoes, are all given by Pluquet in his Contes Pupalaircs. The 
LOup-garou was, according to an old superstition, a human being who 
hud the power lo turn himself into a wolf and yet retain human intel- 
ligence. Cf. Wcrc-wolf in "The Skeleton in Armor," line 38. 

281. Goblin. Kobold, a kindly spirit, industrious and helpful, but 
unwilling to be thanked. 

282. IJtichc. Pluquet conjectures that the fleet ermine fox gave 
rise to this story. 

284. The oxen. The superstition still lingers in England and on 
the continent, that on Christmas eve, at midnight, the cattle fall to 
their knees in worship of the Saviour, as the legends say they did in 
the stable on the night of his birth. 

285. Spider. That the ague could be cured by hanging around the 
neck a spider sealed in a goosc-quill, was a belief current in England. 

306-325- The original of this story is one of the oldest legends of 
Florence. In Rossini's opera. La Gazza Ladra, [The Thieving Magpie], 
the same theme is found in a slightly changed form. 

335. Dower. "As soon as a young man arrived to the proper age, 
the community built him a house, broke up the lands about it, and 
supplied him with all the necessaries of life for a twelve-month. There 
he received the partner whom he had chosen, and who brought him 
her portion in flocks." (Quoted by Ilaliburton from Abbo Raynal.) 

344. Drnught-board. Checker-board. 

348. Embrasure. An architectural term meaning the sloping or 
bevelling of an opening in the wall, either window or door, so as to 
enlarge the profile. 

354. Curfew. A corruption from the French couvrc-feu, literally 
meaning cover-fire. The bell, rung at nine, or at sunset, as in England, 
warned the villagers to put out their fires (or cover them), lock their 
doors, and go to bed. 

381. Compare Genesis xxi: 14-21. 

386. What is the force of the figure in this line? 

396-398. "Real misery was wholly unlcnown and benevolence an- 
ticipated the demands of poverty. Every misfortune was relieved as 
it were, before it could be felt, without ostentation on the one hand, 
and without meanness on the other. It was. in short, a society of 
brethren ; every individual of which was equally ready to give, and to 
receive, what he thought the common right of mankind. So perfect 
a harmony naturally prevented all those connexions of gallantry 



* Notes on Evangeline 393 

which are so often fatal to the peace of families." (Quoted by Hali- 
burton from Abbe Raynal.) 

413. The titles of popular songs in France, appropriate to festival 
occasions. 

432-441. The address delivered by Colonel Winslow is quoted in 
Haliburton's History from theloriginal manuscript of Winslow's 

diary: 

"Gentlemen: I have received from his Excellency Governor Law- 
rence, the King's Commission, which I have in my hand; and by his 
orders you are convened together to manifest to you. his Majesty's 
final resolution to the French inhabitants of this his Province of Nova 
Scotia; who. for almost half a century, have had more indulgence 
granted them than any of his subjects in any part of his dominions; 
what use you have made of it you yourselves best know. The part of duty 
I am now upon, though necessary, is very disagreeable to my natural 
make and temper, as I know it must be grievous to you, who are aware 
of the same species; but it is not my business to animadvert but to 
obey such orders as I receive, and therefore, without hesitation, shall 
deliver you his Majesty's orders and instructions, namely — that your 
lands and tenements, cattle of all kinds and live stock of all sorts, 
are forfeited to the Crown ; with all other your effects, saving your money 
and household goods, and you yourselves to be removed from this 
Ills province. 

"Thus it is peremptorily his Majesty's orders, that the whole French 
inhabitants of these Districts be removed; and I am, tlu-ough his 
Majesty's goodness, directed to allow you liberty to carry ofT your 
money and household goods, as many as you can without discommo- 
ding the vessels you go in. "I shall do everything in my power that all 
those goods be secured to you. and that you are not molested in carry- 
ing them off ; also, that whole families shall go in the same vessel, and 
make this remove, which I am sensible must give you a great deal of 
trouble, as easy as his Majesty's service wiU admit; and hope that, in 
whatever part of the world you may fall, you may be faithful subjects. 
a peaceable and happy people. I also must inform you. that it is his 
Majesty's pleasure that you remain in security under the inspection 
and direction of the troops that I have the honor to command." 

472. Prince of Peace. Compare Isaiah ix: 6. 

476. Father, forgive them. Compare Lulie xxiii: 34. 

484. Ave Maria. The first two words of a Latin prayer to the 
Virgin, meaning Hail Mary! Compare Luke i: 28. 

486. Elijah. Compare II Kings ii: 11. 

492. Emblazoned. The word means more than merely "lit up." 
Consult a dictionary and note the heraldic idea. 



394 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

507. Like the Prophet. Moses. Read Exodus xix for the Biblical 
story. -^ 

513. Grave of the livinn. What is meant? 

521. The story told by the notary, lines 302-325. 

524. Fifth day. "The preparations having been all completed, 
the 10th of September was fixed upon as the day of departiu'e." 

The church meeting having been held September 5, it was the fifth 
day before the actual moving began. 

541. For four days the men had been confined as prisoners within 
the church. "The road from the chapel to the shore, just one mile in 
length, was crowded with women and children; who, on their knees, 
greeted them as they passed with their tears and their blessings; while 
the prisoners advanced with slow and reluctant steps, weeping, pray- 
ing, and singing hymns." (Haliburton) 

570. "Parents were separated from children, and husbands from 
wives, some of whom have not to this day met again." (Quoted by 
Haliburton from an address to the King drawn up by the Acadians 
who had been sent to Pennsylvania.) 

575-576. What tautology here? 

585-588. "For several successive evenings the cattle assembled 
round the smoldering ruins, as if in anxious expectation of the return 
of their masters; while all night long the faithful watch dogs howled 
over the scene of desolation, and mourned alike the hand that had fed 
and the house that had sheltered them." (Haliburton.) 

597. Paul. Compare Acts xxviii: 1-10. 

605. Benedicite. A Latin word meaning "Blessings be upon you!" 
Compare benediction. 

615. Titan-like. A reference to Briareus, the hundred-handed 
Titan, who with the other Titans conspired against Uranus to place 
Kronos on the celestial throne. Consult a classical mythology for the 
story. 

619-623. "Two hundred and fifty-three houses were on fire at one 
time, in which a great quantity of wheat and flax were consumed." 
The houses were burned by order of the Governor as a protection 
against those who might have escaped, refusing to obey the summons. 

621. Glccds. An archaic word of Anglo-Saxon origin meaning 
glowing coals. 

644. Oblivious slumber. Sleep that brings forget fulness. 

650. Day of doom. Doom is a Sa.xon word for judgment. 

657. Bell or book. Without ritualistic service. The bell was usual- 
ly tolled to mark the passage of the soul; by book is meant the ritual. 

670. Seven thousand of the inhabitants of Acadia had been dis- 
persed among the several Colonies. One thousand arrived in Massa- 



Notes on Evangeline 395 

chusetts Bay; four hundred and fifteen reached Philadelphia in a most 
deplorable condition ; large numbers were sent to the southern colonies, 
whence they tried vainly to return to the land they had been compelled 
to relinquish. 

672. Banks of Newfoundland. Dense fogs are characteristic of 
this region. 

674. Savannas. Low level plains covered with low vegetation. 
No specific place is meant, though the Savannah River in Georgia 
may have suggested the general term. 

675. Father of Waters. Literal translation of the Indian name. 
Mississippi. 

677. Bones oi the mammoth or mastodon have been unearthed 
throughout the valleys of the United States. 

705. Coureurs-dcs'hois. Literally, runners of the woods. They were 
hunters, trappers, and traders, who mingled with the Indians during 
colonial times. Their life is interestingly presented in Parkman's 
histories. 

707. Voyageur. The name usually given to French-Canadians 
employed by the Northwest and Hudson Ray Companies to transport 
men and supplies from one station to another. The term is hardly 
appropriate in Louisiana. 

713. Saint Catherine's tresses. Saint Catherine was celebrated for 
her vows of virginity. The French proverb, Elle restera pour coiffer 
Sainte Katherine {She will he left to braid Saint Catherine's tresses) 
has reference to one devoted to single life. 

733. O Muse! An imitation of the conventional address to the 
Muse of Epic poetry, but here meaning only inspiration. 

741. Beautiful River. Literal translation of the Indian name 
Ohio, preserved by La Salle, the first discoverer of the river. 

750. Opelousas. The section of country near the mouth of the 
Mississippi. Louisiana, though ceded by the French to Spain in 1 762. 
was still under French influence. Attracted by the French population 
there, about six hundred and fifty Acadian exiles arrived in New 
Orleans in the Spring of 1765, and settled later along the river, giving 
it the name of Acadian Coast, which still adheres to a portion of the 
banks. 

758. Wimpling. From wimple, a head-covering laid in folds; 
hence, rippling, like the folds of a wimple. 

764. Golden Coast. In southern Louisiana below Baton Rouge. 

766. Bayou of Plaquemine. There is to-day a town. Plaquemine. 
about one hundred miles north of New Orleans on the Mississippi. 

782. Mimosa. The sensitive plant. 

793. Corridors. Here used by poetic extension. 



396 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

807. Atchafalaya. Lost river; an outlet or a continuation of either 
the Red River or the Mississippi, west of Plaquemiue. Scan the line 
and determine the accent. 

821. Ladder of Jacob. Compare Genesis xxviii: 12. 

856. Teche. A stream in southern Louisiana. 

878. Bacchantes. Revellers who, in classical mythology, were wor- 
shipers of Bacchus, the god of the vine, whence the name. 

890. Yule-tide. A mid-winter festival attended with much cere- 
mony among the primitive Celts of Britain. Later the custom passed 
into the Christmas festival of the early English, to which the word 
generally refers. 

916. Kine. Archaic plural of cow. 

952. Adaycs. An old Spanish town near Natchitoches, not existing 
at the present day. Also spelled Adaies. 

953. Ozark Mountains. Elevations running from the northern 
borders of Arkansas through Missouri. 

956. The Fates. More of a proverbial expression than a classical 
allusion; one's destiny. 

961. Olympus. A mountain in northern Greece, the fabled home 
of the gods. 

970. Ci-dcvant. A word transferred from the French meaning 
former. 

984. Natchitoches. A division in northwest Louisiana. 

997. King George. The expulsion of the Acadians occurred during 
the reign of George III of England. 

1004. The fever. The southern low regions have much malaria, 
causing ague, or chills and fever. 

1006. Compare note on line 285. 

1009. Creoles. A name applied to native-born inhabitants of 
Louisiana of French or Spanish ancestry. 

1033. Like a silent Carthusian. The Carthusian order of monks. 
and nuns, was founded by St. Bruno in 1086 in the valley of Char- 
treuse, France (whence the name), and was marked by a severe rigidity 
of rule. Among the rigid vows, that of almost perpetual silence is the 
most characteristic. 

What is the force of the comparison here? 

1044. "Upharsin." The last word in the famous "Handwriting 
on the Wall." signifying destruction. Read the story of Belshazzar's 
Feast. Daniel v: 1-31. 

1063. Prodigal Son. Compare Luke xv: 11-32. 

1064. Foolish Virgin. Compare Matthew xxv: 1-13. 

1078. Far in the West. The region here described is southern 
Idaho, a mountainous, desert land. 



Notes on Evangeline 397 

1082. Oregon, Wallcway, Owyhee. The uame Oregon was formerly- 
applied to what is now the Columbia River, but the reference here is 
undoubtedly to the Snake branch of the Columljia. The Walleway 
and the Owyhee are in the same region, tributaries of the Columbia 
and the Snake. 

1083. Wind-river Mountains. A part of the Rockies in Wyoming, 
southeast of-the Yellowstone Park, constituting the great continental 
divide. 

1084. Sweet-water Valley; Nebraska. Through the Sweet-water 
Valley in Central Wyoming, flows the Sweet-water River, which be- 
comes the North Platte. The Platte River, formed by the North and 
South branches, is sometimes called the Nebraska. 

1085. Fontainc-gui-bout. "The boiling spring," supposed to be 
a well-known spring in a valley in central Colorado. Spanish sierras. 
Sierra in Spanish signifies saw. The name is often applied to our 
western mountains, ])ecause of their craggy, jagged api^earance. The 
Spanish sierras are that part of the Rockies south of Colorado. 

1095. Ishmael's children. Compare Genesis xvi: 12. What is 
the force of the figure? 

1102. Anchorite monk. A recluse. What is the force of the figure 
here? 

1114. Fata Morgana. The Italian name for a species of mirage, 
a phenomenon by which distant objects appear in air near at hand. 

1119. Shawnee. The Shawnces were a vagrant branch of the great 
Algonquin stock of American Indians, roaming over southwestern 
United States. 

1120. Camanches. A branch of the Shoshoncan stock inhabiting 
the region of North Texas. 

1139-1149. These tales are short adaptations of Indian legends 
given by Schoolcraft in his Algic Researches. (See Introduction to 
The Song of Hiawatha, p. 105.) 

1159. Subtle. Compare subtile, and distinguish between the two. 

1167. Black Robe Chief. An Indian name for the Jesuit mission- 
aries. 

1171-1206. This incident of the Jesuit Mission was probably sug- 
gested to the poet by Chateaubriand's A tola, a tale of the loves of two 
Indians. Atala and Chactas. The author makes his hero and heroine 
find help in the time of need at the Mission of Father Aubry, a "Black 
Robe Chief" who had established a mission in the forest where he 
taught the Indians a simple form of Christianity. 

1213-1214. Compare The Song of Hiawatha, Canto xiii. lines 217- 
227, and consult the note in this volume on that passage (p. 410). 

1219. Compass-flower. A stout perennial plant of the aster family 



398 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

bearing a yellow flower, found in the prairies of Michigan and Wis- 
consin. The leaves are said to turn their edges due north and south. 
When, late in life, Longfellow saw a compass-flower in the Botanical 
Gardens, he altered his original description here to make it more true 
to nature, substituting "vigorous plant" for "delicate plant," and 
"in the houseless wild" instead of "on its fragile stalk." 

1226. Asphodel flowers. A poetic reference to the Greek idea of 
"asphodel meadows haimted by the shades of heroes." Nepenthe. 
A potion having power to dispel pain and sorrow. 

1233. Saginaw. A small stream in eastern Michigan flowing into 
Saginaw Bay. 

1241. Moravian Missions. The Moravians are a Christian sect 
descended from the Bohemian Brethren, a branch of the Hussites. 
After the Thirty Years' War, their settlements in Moravia were de- 
stroyed, and many of them came to the New World. They resemble 
the Quakers somewhat. Their missions were called Moravian 
Gnadenhiitten — "Tents of Grace." 

1253. William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, the Quaker 
Colony. 

1256. Many of the streets of Philadelphia bear the names of trees, 
as for example. Chestnut, Locust, Pine, Spruce, etc. 

1257. Dryads. In classical mythology, nymphs presiding over 
woods and trees. 

1288. Sister of Mercy. This order of nuns, bound by the vows of 
poverty, chastity, and obedience, and devoted to acts of mercy, was 
founded in Dublin in 1827. The poet is guilty of anachronism here 
in making Evangeline a Sister of Mercy, unless, of course, he gives her 
the general attributes without making her one of the order. 

1298. Pestilence. The yellow fever broke out in Philadelphia in 
1793 and was terrible in its ravages. A vivid account of it may be 
found in Charles Brockden Brown's novel, Arthur Mervyn. 

1 299. "Among the country people, large quantities of wild pigeons 
in the spring are regarded as certain indications of an unhealthy sum- 
mer. Whether or not this prognostication has ever been verified, I 
cannot tell. But it is very certain that during the last spring the 
number of those birds brought to market was immense. Never, 
perhaps, were there so many before." (From Mathew Carey's A 
Memoir of the Yellow Fever in Philadelphia in 1793.) 

1312. Compare Mark xiv: 7 

1 326. An Episcopal church in Philadelphia where Benjamin Frank- 
lin lies buried. 

1328. Wicaco is a suburb of Philadelphia. The old church of the 
Swedes, founded 1698, is still standing. 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 399 

1356. Angel of Death. Compare Exodus xii: 21-30. 

1381-1399. Compare this passage in detail with the Prelude, lines 
1-9, and note the repetitions and changes, and the effect produced by 
them. 

THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 

Consult the Glossary of Proper Names at the end of these notes for 
words not herein explained or commented upon. The text itseL 
usually explains the Indian names of persons and things. 

INTRODUCTION , 

Lines 1-20. The poet fancifully takes refuge behind the legendary 
Nawadaha for the traditional subject matter of the poem; see the 
Introduction to the poem on this point. 

13. Land of the Ojibways. The Ojibway Indians, better known as 
the Chippewaj's, a tribe of the Algonquin stock, lived along the southern 
shore of Lake Superior between the Pictured Rocks and the Grand 
Sable, a region made remarkable by picturesque sandstone cliffs, water- 
falls, and sand-dunes. The Ojiliways extended their range westward 
over northern Minnesota and North Dakota. 

14. Land of the Dacotahs. The region occupied by a branch of the 
Siouan stock, the Dacotahs, who resided in the lands drained by the 
upper Mississippi and westward to the Missouri, the present North and 
South Dakota. 

41. Vale of Tawasentha. A valley in Albany County, N. Y., now 
called Norman's Kill. 

60. Hiawatha. (Pronounced Hi-a-wa'-tha, preferably, though 
Longfellow is said to have used He-a-wa'-tha; either pronunciation 
is authorized.) The real Hiawatha was an Onondaga chief of the fif- 
teenth century. See Introduction to The Song of Hiawatha, pp. 113- 
115. 

67-115. What is the nature of the poet's appeal to the reader? 
Analyze the phases. Cf. the personal appeal made in the Prelude to 
Evangeline, 11. 16-19. 

I. THE PEACE-PIPE 

1. Mountains of the prairie. See Glossary, page 418. 

2. Red Pipe-stone Quarry. A quarry in Pipe-stone County, Minne- 
sota, which received its name from the legend referred to in the text. 
Mr. George Catlin, the American traveller and student of Indian tradi- 
tions and customs, is the poet's authority for the legend of the peace- 
pipe. In his honor, the red pipe-stone is often called catlinite. 



400 Narrative Poems of Longjellow 

3. Gitche Manito. The Great Spirit. Manito or Manitou was a 
spirit or spiritual person, or an object endowed with spiritual power, 
as a fetish or an amulet. The idea of "Spirit," however, was peculiar 
in that it demanded embodiment. Hence, Gitche Manito was the 
personification of a supremely great Indian chief who ruled all the 
nations. The Jesuit missionaries succeeded in a small degree in in- 
fusing into the conception of Gitche Manito the idea of God. 

30. Calumet. A large tobacco-pipe with a stone bowl and a long 
reed stem ornamented with eagles' feathers, used by the North Amer- 
ican Indians at their conferences. The word is derived from the 
Latin calamus, reed. 

43. Wyoming. See Glossary, page 421. 

44. Tuscaloosa. See Glossary, page 421. 

60-65. The Indian tribes here mentioned are representative both 
as to character and geographical home. Consult the Glossary of 
Proper Names for a specific account of them. 

116-123. What parallels are suggested by this promise of the coming 
of a Prophet? Compare the poet's account of this legend with the 
prose extract below: 

"The Great Spirit at an ancient period here called the Indian nations 
together, and, standing on the precipice of the red pipe-stone rock 
broke from its wall a piece, and made a huge pipe by turning it in his 
hand, which he smoked over them, and to the North, the South, the 
East, and the West, and told them that this stone was red — that it 
was their flesh — that it belonged to them all, and that the war-club 
and scalping-knife must not be raised on its ground. At the last 
whiflf of his pipe his head went into a great cloud, and the whole sur- 
face of the rock for several miles was melted and glazed." (From 
Catlin's Letters and Notes on the Manners, Customs, and Conditions of 
the North American Indians, volume II.) 

II. THE FOUR WINDS 

4. Wampum. Small shell beads pierced and strung, used as cur- 
frency and for ornament by the North American Indians. Wampum 
in the Indian language signifies white, but it was of two kinds, white and 
dark purple. By certain designs woven into belts of wampum, records 
of compacts, treaties, dates, events, etc., were kept and transmitted 
to succeeding generations, the old men of the tribes usually being the 
custodians. Exchange of wampum with the white settlers meant 
friendly relations. 

43. Hark you. Bear! The poet took this incident from Hecke- 
welder, who, in his account of the Indian nations describes an Indian 



Azotes on The Song of Hiaivalha 401 

hunter addressing a bear in nearly these same words. When asked 
how he thought the animal could understand what was said, the hunter 
answered, "the bear understood me very well; did you not observe 
how ashamed he looked while I was upbraiding him?" Parkman says 
that an Indian hunter has often been known to address a wounded 
bear in a long harangue of apology. 

127. Wabun and the Wabun-Anming. Compare the Greek legend 
of Perseus and Andromeda. 

129. The legend of Kabibonokka and ShingPbis is taken from 
Schoolcraft's Indian Tales and Legends. The legend is from the Ojib- 
way-Algonquin, and the translation into prose ):»y Schoolcraft is no less 
beautiful than the poet's version. Note the beauty of Schoolcraft's 
verse rendering of the chant of Shingebis: 

"Windy god, I know yoiu- plan. 
You are but my fellow man. 
Blow you may yom- coldest breeze, 
Shingebiss j'ou cannot freeze, 
Sweep the strongest wind you can, 
Shingebiss is still your man, 
Heigh! for life — and ho! for bliss. 
Who so free as Shingebiss?" 

{Oneota, p. 11.) 

242. Indian Shimmer. A period of warm, dry, calm weather in 
late autumn, attended by a ))lue, hazy atmosphere. The poetic sug- 
gestion here that Indian summer is caused by the sighs of Shawon- 
dasee, the South- Wind, is peculiarly appropriate. 

243-244. The idea is that he brought the warmth of April ("Moon 
when nights are brightest") into the drear November ("dreary Moon 
of Snow-shoes"). The Indian year consisted of thirteen moons each 
characteristically named according to the season designated. Com- 
pare "Moon of Strawberries," "Moon of Leaves," "Moon of Falling 
Leaves," etc., in the Glossary of Proper Names. 

III. HIAWATHA'S CHILDHOOD 

64. GitcheGumee. The Ojibway-Algonquin name for Lake Superior 
— "Big-Sea-water;" from Gitchee, great, and Guma, a generic term for 
bodies of water. 

67. Daughter of the Moon. Note how the explanation of natural 
phenomena merges into the Indian legend. This is characteristic of 
primitive peoples. 

80. The Naked Bear. Heckewelder speaks of this tradition as prev 



402 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

alent among the Mohicans and Delawares. "Among all the animals 
that had been formerly in this country, this [the naked bear] was the 
most ferocious ; it was much larger than the largest of the common bears 
and remarkably long-bodied ; all over (except a spot of hair on its back 
of a white color) it was naked. . . . The history of this animal used 
to be a subject of conversation among the Indians, especially when in 
the woods a-hunting. I have heard them say to their children when 
crying: 'Hush, the naked bear will hear you, be upon you, and devour 
you.' V. 

82. Ewayea! Schoolcraft interestingly comments: 
"To my mind it is a matter of extreme interest to observe how al- 
most identical are the expressions of affection in all states of society, 
as though these primitive elements admit of no progress, but are per- 
fect in themselves. The E-wa-yea of the Indian mother is entirely 
analogous to the Lul-la-by of our language. 

Wa wa — wa wa — wa we yea, 
Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun, 
Nedaunis — ais, e we yea, 
Wa wa— wa wa — wa wa, 
Nedaunis— ais, e we yea. 

Swinging, swinging, lullaby, 
Sleep thou, sleep thou, sleep thou, 
Little daughter, lullaby. 
Swinging, swinging, swinging. 
Little daughter, lullaby." 

(The original meter is preserved in the literal translation.) 

90. The Death-Dance of the Spirits. Aurora Borealis or Northern 
Lights. 

94. The broad, white road in heaven. The Milky Way. 

103-104. Minne-wawa! Mudway-aushka! An illustration of nat- 
ural onomatopoeia. Compare Wahonowin. 

105-1 16. "In the hot summer evenings, the children of the Chippe- 
wa-Algonquins, along the shores of the upper lakes, and in the northern 
latitudes, frequently assemble before their parents' lodges, and amuse 
themselves by little chants of various kinds, with shouts and wild 
dancing. Attracted by such shouts of merriment and gambols, I 
walked out one evening to a green lawn skirting the edge of the St. 
Mary's river, to get hold of the meaning of some of these chants. 
The air and the plain were literally sparkling with the phosphorescent 
light of the fire-fly. By dint of attention, the following succession of 
words was caught: 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 403 

Wau wau tay see! 

Wau wau tay see! 

E mow e shin 

Tshe bwau ne baun-e wee! 

Wa wau tay see! 

Wa wau tay see! 

Was sa koon ain je gun 

Was sa koon ain je gun. 

Compare the literal translation: 

Flitting-white-flre-insect! Waving white-flre-biig give me light 
before I go to bed! Give me light before I go to sleep! Come, little 
dancing-white-fire-bug! Come little flitting- white-fire- beast! Light 
me with your bright white-flame-instrument — your little candle." 

— (Schoolcraft: Oneota, p. 61.) 

Note how closely Longfellow has followed his original. 

159. lagoo. In Schoolcraft's Hiawatha Legends the stories of lagoo 
suggest the travels of Sir John IMandeville, or of the more recent 
Baron Munchausen. 

169-172. As soon as the Indian boy was strong enough to wield a 
bow, he was sent alone into the forest to try his skill. 

228. The Indian women were particularly skillful in the dressing 
of skins. 



IV. HIAWATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS 

70. From the geographical references here note the scope of Hia- 
watha's journey. 

219-227. Hiawatha's mission as here indicated is thoroughly in 
keeping with the legendary character of his prototype, Manabozho, as 
preserved by Algonquin tradition. 

239-244. "The northern Indians are in the habit of making frequent 
allusions to Manabozho and his exploits. 'There,' said a young Chip- 
pewa, pointing to some huge boulders of greenstone, 'are pieces of the 
rock broken off in Manabozho's contest with his father. This is the 
duck that Manabozho kicked. Under that rock Manabozho lost a 
beaver.' " (Schoolcraft.) 

257. Minnehaha. The name given by the Sioux Indians to the 
"Little Falls." forty feet in height, on a stream that empties into the 
Mississippi between Fort Snelling and St. Anthony. The word means 
"Laughing Waters." The incongruity of having a hero with an Iro- 
quois name, a heroine with a Sioux name, and basing the story on 



404 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Ojibway- Algonquin legends, has been pointed out; but what would be 
the poet's answer to such criticism? 

261-265. The shaping and polishing of arrow-heads from these very 
hard stones was an art known and practiced by a very few, whose fame 
brought hunters and warriors from far and wide for the works of their 
skill. 

V. HIAWATHA'S FASTING 

1-8. In history and literature, what other prophets have retired 
for prayer and fasting "for the profit of the people?" 

9-15. Thatcher, in his Traits of the Indians, speaks of the curious 
custom known as the "initiation of boys." The boy was taken to the 
woods and shut up close, day and night, for some weeks, in a kind of 
pen so constructed as to admit the air freely. No food was permitted, 
only a drink made from certain herbs and roots. This perhaps had an 
intoxicating quality, but at all events the effect of the whole process 
was to render the patient stark staring mad for the time. The 
visions and hallucinations of this time were construed as divine revela- 
tions and were supposed to have a great effect on the future character 
of the youth. 

41. These things. Note here and following the poetic suggestion 
of a spiritual element in Hiawatha's question. Is this consistent with 
Indian character? 

84. Mondamin. "They esteem it so important and divine a grain 
that their story-tellers invented various tales, in which this idea is 
symbolized under the form of a special gift from the Great Spirit. 
The Ojibway-Algonquins, who call it Mondamin, that is, the Spirit's 
grain or berry, have a pretty story of this kind, in which the stalk in 
full tassel, is represented as descending from the sky, under the guise of a 
handsome youth, in answer to the prayers of a young man at his fast 
of virility, on coming to manhood." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

Schoolcraft calls this the Cereal Allegory of the West, and says that 
the Indian is here taught that transformation can be effected only by 
labor and perseverance. The Indian character, however, is not in 
keeping with the lesson. 

VI. HIAWATHA'S FRIENDS 

The group of friends, lagoo, Chi])iabos, Kwasind, and Hiawatha, 
represents in a striking way history and story-telling, music and poetry, 
perfect physical manhood, and prophetic guidance to a higher civiliza- 
tion. 

15. With naked hearts. What is the meaning of this expression? 



Notef^ on The Song of Hiawatha 



405 



34. What classic legend is suggested by the quality and power of 
Chibiabos's music? 

84. His Manito. Manito, or as the Chippewas pronounce it 
Monedo, signifies simply a spirit. When applied to the great ruling 
spirits of good and evil, some adjective or qualifying particle is added 
to the word. Each Indian had his own individual Manito. selected 
usually at the period of the fast of virility. (See note on v, 9-1.').) 
The animals that appear propitiously to the mind during the dreams 
and visions incident to the occasion, are fixed on and selected as per- 
sonal Manitos. and are ever afterward viewed as guardians. Manito 
is sometimes connected with Totem (q. v.). 

107. The character of Kwasind in Algonquin mythology is reminis- 
cent of Samson in Bible story. Compare the stories of their achieve- 
ments. 

VII. HIAWATHA'S SAILING 

1. Birch-tree. Thatcher, in his Indian Traits, writes: "The tribes 
of the northern lakes build their canoes wholly of birch bark, wiih a 
little soft wood and pine gum. or boiled pitch, without a nail or bit of 
metal of any kind to confine the parts. The entire outside is bark 
Where the edges of it come together at the bottom or along the sides 
they are sewed very closely with a sort of vegetable thread called 
'wattap.' made of roots, and the seam is plastered over with gum." 

49. Larch-tree. The roots of the larch-tree u.sually furnished the 
"wattap" mentioned above. 

139-140. Pauwating, Taquamcnaw. Sault Sainte Marie and Tah- 
quamenon of the modern map of North Michigan. The references fix 
definitely the local setting of these legends. 

VIII. HIAWATHA'S FISHING 

1 14-193. Compare this incident with the celebrated Biblical story 
of which it is reminiscent. 

154. Tail-in-air. The word "squirrel" is said to be derived from 
a word meaning "to sit in the shadow of its tail." (From Trench 
On Words.) 

215. The Night-sun. Force of this epithet? 

IX. HIAWATHA AND THE PEARL FEATHER 

The conflict of Hiawatha and Megissogwon has its parallel in the 
fight of Beowulf and the Monsters in the Anglo Saxon epic. Beowulf. 
There are many points of resemblance in the local setting. 



406 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

127. Fared, Compare the various forms and meanings of this 
word. 

184. War-birds. A poetic compound for ravens or other birds of 
prey. What is suggested by the Avord? 

247. The Indians often connect their achievements in this way 
with some animal supposed to have benign influence. This idea is 
associated with the ideas of Manito and Totem. 

X. HIAWATHA'S WOOING 

90. Plaiting Mats. Beautiful mats woven from grasses and rushes 
and stained with bright colors from native dyes were produced by the 
more skilled among the Indian women. 

139. Spacious was the wigwam. The wigwam consisted commonly 
of a rough, conical framework of poles stuck into the ground and 
converging above, covered with bark, matting, or tanned hides, with 
an aperture at the top for the exit of the smoke. A "spacious wig- 
wam" was large enough for a dozen Indians to sit comfortably in a 
rough circle around the center fire. 

141-2. Gods . . . painted on its curtains. The smooth side of the 
skins was often painted with crude pictures representing the great 
spirits. C'f. "The Song of Hiawatha," xiv. Picture Writing, lines 46-58. 

XI. HIAWATHA'S WEDDING-FEAST 

2. Yenadizze. Not a family name, but a general term for an idler, 
fop, or dandy. He was tolerated in every tribe for the merriment he 
could cause, and was a necessary part of the tribal festivities. 

13. Feast. Parkman in the Introduction to his Jesuits in North 
America gives an interesting account of an Indian feast. 

32. Pemican and buffalo marrow. Strips of venison dried, pounded 
Into a paste flavored with aromatic berries, seasoned with buffalo oil 
or marrow, and pressed into cakes, constitiited one of the most common 
food preparations of the North American Indian. Buffalo marrow 
was used very much as butter is among the civilized. 

39. The hosts never ate with their guests but devoted themselves 
wholly to serving them. 

50. Merry dances. "Dancing is both an amusement and a religious 
observance among the American Indians. Everyone has heard of the 
war dance, the medicine dance, the wabeno dance, the dance of honor 
(generally called the Beggar's Dance), and various others, each of which 
has its appropriate movements, its air, and its words. There is no 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 407 

feast, no religious ceremony, among them, which is not attended with 
dancing and songs." (Schoolcraft's Oneota.) 

60. Sports and pastimes. The sports mentioned here are charac- 
teristic games described by Schoolcraft and Parkman. Quoits was 
played by pitching two circular metal disks with a hole in the center 
the object being "to ring" the disks on a metal pin. The game has a 
parallel in the throwing of the discus by the Greek athlete. Pugasaing 
was the principal game of hazard, played by tlirowing thirteen count- 
ers from a wooden bowl, the position of the counters determining 
the value of the points made. A very graphic description of the game 
is found in this poem, xvi. Pau-Puk-Kecwis, based on Schoolcraft's accu- 
rate account. 

118. Sand Hills of the Nagow Wudjoo. The legends fancifully 
attribute the origin of the great sand-dunes of Lake Superior to the 
wild dances of Pau-Puk-Keewis. "The basin and bed of the lake act as 
a vast geological mortar, in which the masses of broken and fallen 
stones are whirled about and ground down, till the softer ones, such 
as the sand-stones, are brought into the state of pure yellow sand. 
This sand is driven ashore by the waves, where it is shoved up in long 
wreaths till dried by the sun. The winds now take it up and spread it 
inland, or pile it immediately along the coast, where it presents itself 
in mountain masses. Such are the great Sand Dunes of the Grand 
Sables." (Schoolcraft.) 

These dunes are often three hundred and fifty feet in height, without 
a sign of vegetation. 

141-176. Onawayf This beautiful rhapsody is a metrical version 
of a literal translation of an Indian Serenade, taken from the corre- 
spondence of a western traveller, and published in Littell's Living Age, 
April. 1850. A close comparison of the poet's version with the follow- 
ing literal translation will show how little is gained aside from the verse 
form. 

Indian Serenade 

"Awake! flower of the forest — beautiful bird of the prairie. 

"Awake! awake! thou with the eyes of the fawn. 

"When you look at me I am happy; like the flowers when they feel 
the dew. 

"The breath of thy mouth is sweet as the fragrance of the flowers in 
the morning; sweet as their fragrance at evening in the moon 
of the fading leaf. 

"Does not the blood of my veins spring towards thee, like the bub- 
bling springs to the sun — in the moon of the brightest nights? 

"My heart sings to thee when thou art near, like the dancing branches 
to the wind, in the moon of strawberries. 



408 Narrative Poems of Longfellow , 

"When thou art not pleased, my beloved, my heart is darkened like 

the shining river when shadows fall from the clouds above. 
"Thy smiles cause my troubled heart to be Ijrightened, as tlie sun 

makes to look like gold the ripple which the cold wind has created. 
• Myself! behold me! — blood of my beating heart. 
"The earth smiles — the waters smile — the heavens smile, but I — I 

lose the way of smiling when thou art not near — Awake, awake! 

my beloved." 

The original is in a mixture of the Ottawa and Ojibway dialects. 
The letter containing it and the translation is dated at La Pointe, 
Wisconsin Territory. Lake Superior; the name of the writer remains 
unknown. 

231. The telling of tales is oneof the chief amusements among the 
Lidians, particularly in the winter. Schoolcraft discovered the fol- 
lowing maxim: "Do not tell a story in the stunmcr; if you do the 
toads will visit you." 

XIL THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

3. The Red Swan. The tradition of the Red Swan is one of the 
most interesting of the Indian legends preserved by Schoolcraft in his 
Algic Researches. Three brothers were one day hunting on a wager 
to see who would bring home the first game. They agreed to kill 
only the animal each was in the ha])it of killing. Ojibwa the youngest 
had not gone far before he met a bear. and. contrary to the agree- 
ment, he killed it and was Jjeginning to skin it when suddenly some- 
thing red began to tinge the air all around him. A strange noise was 
hcartl like the sound of a htunan voice. Following this, he discovered 
in the lake a most beautiful Red Swan. He shot arrow after arrow 
until his quiver was empty, but the Ijird remained heedless of the at- 
tempts on its life. Ojibwa then remembered that in his deceased 
father's medicine-sack were three magic arrows, which, under any 
other circumstances, it would have ]>een the greatest sacrilege to take. 
Securing the arrows, he ran hastily back to the lake and found the 
swan still there. The third arrow, aimed with great precision, passed 
thiough the neck of the swan. The wounded bird flew away, rising 
gradually and flying off toward the sinking sun. The youth followed 
it, and after many adventiu-es. found that the swan was the beautiful 
daughter of a magician: he afterwards won her for his bride by do- 
ing a service for her father. (Abridged from Schoolcraft.) 

30-317. The poet has taken the storj- as Schoolcraft gave it, elab- 
orating only as his piu-pose required. 



N'otes on The Song of Hiawatha 409 

"This is a neat aIlep:ory and has a new interest in the association 
it gives to the name of MichiHmackinac. or Mackinac, that island of 
the Lakes so picturesque, so full of romantic tradition, so marlced by 
freaks of nature." (Schoolcraft.) 

290. On an island, green and grassy. Mackinac Island, situated in 
the Mackinac Straits, the channel connecting Lake Michigan with Lake 
Huron. 

306-307. Little People, the Puk-Wudjics. Literally, "Little men 
who vanish." The Indians spoke of them as Mauito's spirits, of 
a fairy character. 

340-367. This song is a metrical version of an original Ojibway 
song given in Schoolcraft's Oncota. The circiunstances have a his- 
torical basis connected with the bringing of a body of Indians under 
General Montcalm into the valley of the Lower St. Ijawrence, in 1759. 
In one of the canoes that came from Lake Superior, was a Chippewa 
girl called Paig-wain-e-osh-e. or the White Eagle. Left at the lake of 
Two Mountains wliile the warriors proceerled further, she formed an 
attachment for a young Algonquin belonging to the French mission 
of the Two Mountains. The attachment was mutual. When the time 
came for parting, the girl i)ourod out her soul in a song of which the 
following is a literal translation: 

' Ah me! Wlien I think of him — when I think of him — my sweet- 
heart, my Algonquin. 
"As I emliarked to retiu-n. he put the white wampum around my neck — 

a pledge of truth, my sweetheart, my Algonquin. 
"I shall go with you. he said, to your native country — I shall go with 

you. my sweetheart — my Algon(iuin. 
"Alas! I replied — my native country is far. far away — My sweetheart. 

my Algonquin. 
"When I looked back again — where we parted, he was still looking 

after me. mj- sweetheart, my Algonquin. 
'He was still standing on a fallen tree — that had fallen into tlie water. 

my sweetheart, my Algonquin. 
"Alas! when I think of him — when I think of him — it is when I think 

of him, my Algonquin." 

XIII. BLESSING THE CORNFIELDS 

25-31. "It is well known that corn-planting and corn-gathering, 
at least among all the still imcolonizcd tribes, are left entirely to the 
females and children, and a few superannuated old men. It is not 
generally known, perhaps, that this labor is not compulsory, and that 
it is assumed by the females as a just equivalent, in their view, for the 



410 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

onerous and continuous labor of the other sex, in providing meats, 
and skins for clothing, by the chase, and in defending their villages 
against their enemies, and keeping intruders off their territories. A 
good Indian housewife deems this a part of her prerogatives, and 
prides herself to have a store of corn to exercise her hospitality, in 
the entertainment of the lodge-guests." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

36-65. "A singular proof of this belief, in both sexes, of the mys- 
terious influence of the steps of a woman on the vegetable and insect 
creation, is found in an ancient custom which was related to me re- 
specting corn-planting. It was the practice of the hunter's wife, when 
the field of corn had been planted, to choose the first dark or over 
clouded evening, to perform a secret circuit, sans habilement around 
the field. For this purpose she slipt out of the lodge in the evening, 
unobserved, to some obscure nook, where she completely disrobed. 
Then taking her matchecota, or principal garment, in one hand, she 
dragged it around the field. This was thought to ensure a prolific 
crop, and to prevent the assaults of insects and worms upon the grain. 
It was supposed they could not creep over the charmed line." (School- 
craft in Oneota.) 

153. Prisoner-string. A cord made of the bark of the elm-tree 
boiled and then immersed in cold water. These strings were used in 
war for the ptirpose of securing prisoners temporarily until disposed 
of by the chief. 

1 98-203. "Corn-gathering and husking is a season of decided thank- 
fulness and merriment. At these gatherings the chiefs and old men 
are mere spectators, although they are pleased spectators, the young 
only sharing in the sport. Who has not seen the sedate ogema in 
such a vicinage, smoking a dignified pipe with senatorial ease?" 
(Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

210-227. "If one of the young female buskers finds a red ear of 
corn, it is typical of a brave admirer, and is regarded as a fitting pres- 
ent to some young warrior. But if the ear be crooked and tapering to 
a point, no matter what color, the whole circle is set in a roar and 
Wagemin is the word shouted aloud. It is the symbol of a thief in 
the cornfield. It is considered as the image of an old man stooping 
as he enters the lot. 

The term wagemin is derived from the tri-literal term Waweau, 
that which is bent or crooked, and min, a grain or berry. The ear 
of corn called Wagemin is a conventional type of a little old man 
pilfering ears of corn in a cornfield. It is coupled with the phrase 
Paimosaid, literally, he who walks; the ideas conveyed by it are, he 
who walks at night to pilfer corn." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

The word appears in an old Algonquin corn song: 



N^otes on The Song of Hiawatha 411 

Wagemin! wagemin! 
Thief in the blade. 
Blight of the cornfield, 
Paimosaid. 

XIV. PICTURE-WRITING 

7-8-10. Mcdas, Wabenos, Jossakeeds. Medicine-men, magicians, 
prophets. The three names represent the three grades of the priestly 
order among the Algonquins, the last being the highest. Admission 
to the priestly orders was accompanied by the most trying ordeals, 
and the secrets were guarded by most terrible oaths and the severest 
penalties. 

23. Totem. "By this device the early missionaries observed that 
the natives marked their division of a tribe into clans, and the dis- 
tinction was thus very clearly preserved. Affinities were denoted 
and kept up, long after tradition had failed in its testimony. This 
distinction was seen to mark the arms, the lodge, and the trophies 
of the chief and warrior. It was likewise employed to give identity 
to the clan of which he was a member, on his adjedateg, or grave-post. 

"At the mouth of a small river on the banks of Lake Superior, there 
was an Indian grave fenced around with saplings and protected with 
much care. At its head stood a post, or tabular stick, upon which was 
drawn the figure of the animal which was the symbol of the clan to 
which the deceased chief belonged." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

55. The great serpent. The idea of depicting the Spirit of Evil as 
a serpent is in keeping with the Indian legend that he was created out 
of the leavings and cast away things of the Creator, helped out with 
the ravenous and venomous creatures of the sea and land. 

123-129. "The practice of the North American tribes of drawing 
figures and pictures on skins, trees, and various other substances, has 
been noticed by travellers and writers from the earliest times, but it 
has not been suspected that there was a pictorial alphabet, or a series 
of figures by means of which acts as well as objects of action were 
denoted : or that the most prominent incidents of life and death could 
be recorded so as to be transmitted from one generation to another. 
Above all, it was not anticipated that there should have been found a 
system of symbolic notation for the songs and incantations of the In- 
dian medas and priests, making an appeal to the memory for the pres- 
ervation of language. . . Picture-writing is the only graphic mode of 
communicating all classes of ideas commonly entertained by them, — 
such as their ideas of war, of hunting, of religion, and of magic and 
necromancy." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 



412 Xarrative Poems of Longfellow 

Schoolcraft, in his account of the Indian picture-writing, gives 
some excellent illustrations of the scope of the system together wiih 
some drawings and interpretations. 

XV. HIAWATHA'S LAMENTATIONS 

63-86. Compare Milton's Lycidas, lines 132-151. 

91. Sacred Lodge. "The doctor often consulted the spirits to 
learn the cause and cure of the disease by a method peculiar to that 
family of tribes. He shut himself in a small conical lodge, and the 
spirits here visited him. manifesting their presence by a violent shak- 
ing of the whole structure." (Parkman.) 

113. Mystic Songs. "The priests and prophets have, more than 
any other class, cultivated their national songs and dances, and may 
be regarded as the skakls and poets of the tribes. They are generally 
the composers of the songs, and the leaders in the dance and cere- 
monies, and it is found that their memories are the best stored, not 
only with the sacred songs and cliants, l)ut also with the traditions 
and general lore of the tril)es." (Schoolcraft in Oneota.) 

155-208. The poet has here made great use of the popular idea 
among the Indian tribes that the priests have control over the spirits 
of the dead. 

192-193. Lake of Silver, Stone Canoe. These ideas correspond to 
the River Styx and Charon's Boat in classical mythology. Look up 
the latter in a classical dictionary or in Bullfinch's Age of Fable, and 
compare. 

In his Tales of a Wigwam, Schoolcraft gives a beautiful legend In- 
volving these ideas, entitled "The White Stone Canoe." 
XVI. PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

28. Ojeeg. The Fisher Weasel. According to the legend here 
given, the name was associated with a group of fitars in the northern 
hemisphere, called by the Ojibways Ojeeg Annung, or the Fisher Stars. 
The constellation is now made identical with tlie Plough. 

65. Game of Bowl and Counters. Pugasaing. This was the principal 
game of hazard among the northern tribes. It was played with thirteen 
pieces, hustled in a kind of wooden bowl called onagon. The pieces were 
made of bone and Ijrass. and were shaped rudely according to the name 
they bore. The thirteen pieces are as follows: 
Inincwug — two wedge shaped men. 
Gilshee Kenahik — two great serpents. 
Pugamdgun — one war club. 
Keego — one fish. 
Ozawdhiks — four circular pieces. 
Sheshchwn'j — three ducks. 



Azotes on The Song of Hiawatha 413 

The pieces were thrown from the bowl in a manner similar to dice, 
and the counts were made from the position of the men accordinj,' to 
well-defined rules governing the game. The game was very fascinating 
to some tribes of the Indians. They staked at it their ornaments, 
weapons, clothing, canoes, horses, everything in fact that they possessed ; 
and have been known, it is said, to set up their wives and children, 
and even to forfeit their own liberty. Among the persons who played 
the most were those who bore the name Yenadizze-wug, that is. wander- 
ers about the country, braggadocios, or fops. It can hardly be classed 
with the popular games of amusement by which skill and dexterity 
were acquired. It was strictly a game of hazard, and fascinated as does 
any gambling game. (Adapted from Schoolcraft.) 

210. Silly. Used here in the archaic sense of innocent, guileless, 
happy, simple, etc. 

XVII. THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

The legend here given suggests a crude belief in transmigration, not, 
however, similar to the East Indian doctrine. 

Pau-Puk-Keewis has a parallel in the mischief-making spirit Loki. 
of the Norse mythology. 

293. The Pictured Rocks. This remarkable formation may be de- 
scribed as a series of sandstone bluffs three hunrlred feet in height, 
running along the southern shore of Lake Superior for about five miles, 
rising vertically out of the water with scarcelj' any beach at the base. 
There are two features that make the scenery unique: fh*st, the curious 
manner in which the cliffs have been excavated by the action of the 
surf; and second, the equally curious manner in which the surface 
has been colored by bands of brilliant hues. The term Pictured Rocks 
is an old one, evidently connecting the impressions of the early western 
travellers with the novel distribution of colors on the surface rather 
than with the astonishing variety of form into which the cliffs have 
been worn. (Adapted from Foster and Whitney's Report on the 
Geology of the Lake Superior District.) 

319. Thunder Mountains. Attempt has been made to connect 
these with the elevations on the Canadian shore of Lake Superior in the 
vicinity of Thunder Bay, but since the storms usually come from the 
west, the "distant Thunder Mountains" may mean merely the western 
mountains. 

XVIII. THE DEATH OF KWASIND 

28. Wondrous strength. The reference to the seat of Kwasind's 



414 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

strength is reminiscent of Samson. Cf. Judges xvi: 17. The Greek 
hero Achilles likewise had but one vulnerable spot. 

35-42. Balder, son of the Norse god Odin, could be harmed only 
by the mistletoe. The similarity of such legends among primitive 
peoples the world over is a curious fact worthy of investigation. 



XIX. THE GHOSTS 

2. Quarry. A hunted bird or beast. The word in this sense ia 
now used only poetically. 

140. Rights of guest and stranger. The laws of hospitality were 
held peculiarly sacred among the North American Indians. So sacred 
were they that friends and enemies were treated alike in the courtesies 
of the lodge and the fireside. 

195-204. "Some of the northern tribes of Algonquin origin build a 
small fire on newly made graves for four nights after the interment. 
This was an ancient custom. The reason assigned is, that there is a 
journey of four days to the land of spirits, and if this symbolic fire be 
made, the disembodied soul is saved the necessity of kindling a fire 
at its nightly encampments." (Schoolcraft in Oneota). 

XX. THE FAMINE 

62-68. Such a prayer is too idealized to be in keeping with Indian 
character. 

156. In accordance with the revelation Hiawatha had in the pre- 
ceding section. 

XXI. THE WHITE MAN'S FOOT 

172. Great Canoe with pinions. Compare "great canoes of thun- 
der." line 221. What is the meaning? 

185-230. There are traditions among the North and Central Amer- 
ican tribes of a belief, current long before the white settlement of 
America, that a white race was to come to the land. The attribution 
of this prophecy to Hiawatha is not, therefore, unwarranted. 

202. The White-man's Foot. The plantain is believed to have been 
introduced from Europe, and to have spread westward as the white 
settlers advanced. The leaf of the plant strongly suggests a foot In 
shape. Hence the name. 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 415 

XXII. HIAWATHA'S DEPARTURE 

59. Black-Robe Chief. The Indian name for a Jesuifc missionary. 

128-152. Father iNIarquette and his fellow missionaries visited the 
Algonquins in 1673 teaching Christianity among them. The Indians 
received them with honor and every possible com-tesy. 

203-247. The passage giving Hiawatha's departure may have been 
suggested by Tennyson's "Morte d'Arthvir." At any rate, there are 
points of remarkable similarity and each poem is none the worse for 
being compared with the other. Read Tennyson's "Morte d'Arthur" 
or. better still, his "Passing of Arthm-" in The Idylls of the King as a 
basis for comparison. 

GLOSSARY OF PROPER NAMES IN "HIAWATHA" 

The pronunciation and accent given are in accordance with the de- 
mands of the meter of the poem, and have been verified by the best 
authorities. 

Ad-ji-dau'-mo, the red squirrel. 

Ah-deek', the reindeer. 

Ah-ko-SQ'-win, the fever. 

Ah-meek', the King of Beavers. 

Ah'-mo, the bee, ("stinging fly.") 

Al-gon'-quin (Al-gon'-kin), the general name of a stock of Ameri- 
can Indians including about twenty-five tribes, inhabiting the region 
about the St. Lawrence. 

An-ne-kee'-mee, the thunder. 

A-puk'-wa, the bulriish. 

Ba-lm-wg-'-wa, the sound of thunder. 

Be-mah'"gvH, the grape-vine. 

Be'-na, the pheasant. 

Big-Sea- Water, the Indian name for Lake Superior. 

Black-feet, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the 
Algonquin stock, living originally along the upper Missouri. 

Black-Robe chief, the Indian name for the Roman Catholic mis- 
sionaries. 

Bu-ka-da'-win, the Famine. 

Ca-man'-ches, (C6-man'-ches), a tribe of North American Indians 
belonging to the Shoshonean stock, originally inhabiting north Texas. 
Ghee-maun', a canoe of birch bark. 
Chet'-o-waik, the plover. 



416 Nnrrative Poems of Longfellow 

€hi-bi-a'-bos, a musician; friend of Hiawatha; ruler in the Land of 
Spirits. 

Ch6e'-tg,ws, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the 
Muskhogean stock, originally living between the Mobile and Mississippi 
Rivers. 

Crows, a tribe of the Siouan stock, originally inhabiting the Yellow- 
stone region, now living on the reservation in Montana. 

Da-co'-tahs, (Da-ko'-tas), a tribe of the Siouan stock of North 
American Indians, originally living along the upper Mississippi. 

Da-hin'-da, the bull-frog. 

Dead-Man's-Moceasin-Leather, the Indian name of a fungus 
growth found in the forests, probably the ordinary toad-stool as well 
as the parasite growth found on trees. 

Death Dance of the Spirits, the Indian name for the Aurora Bore- 
alis or Northern Lights. 

Del'-a-wares, a tribe of North American Indians of the Algon- 
quin stock, originally living in the region drained by the Delaware River. 

Dush-kwo-ne'-she, the dragon-fiy. 

E'sa, an Indian exclamation, "Shame upon you." 
Es-eo-na'-ba, (Es-ca-na-ba), a river in northern Michigan empty- 
ing into Green Bay. 
Evening Star, Venus. 
E-w?^-yea', a lullaby. 

Faee-in-a-Mist, nephew of lagoo. 

Foxes, a tribe of North American Indians of the Algonquin stock, 
closely connected "with the Sacs, living originally along the Sac River 
in Wisconsin northward as far as Lake Superior. 

Gee'-zis, Ghee'-zis, the great sun. 
Git'-che-GQ'-mee, Lake Superior, Big-Sea-Water. 
GIt-che Man'-i-t5, the Chief Spirit; the Master of Life. 
Great Bear of the Mountains, the Indian name for bugbear. 
Gush-ke-wau', the darkness. 

Hi-au-ha', an Indian exclamation, "Ho! ho!" 

Hi-a-wa'-tha, the Wise Man; the Teacher; son of Mudjekeewis. the 
West-Wind, and Wenonah, daughter of Nokomis. 

Hu'-rons, a tribe of North xVmerican Indians of the Iroquoian stock, 
living originally between Lake Ontario and Lake Huron. 

I-a'-goo, a great boaster and story-teller; friend of Nokomis. 
I-nin'-e-wiig, wedge men; the name of two counters, ("men"), used 
in the Indian Game of the Bowl. 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 417 

Ish-koo-dah', fire; a comet. 

Jee'-bi, a ghost; a spirit; shade of the departed. 
J6s's-a-keed, a prophet. 

Ka'-be-yun, the West- Wind. 

Ka-bib-o-nok'-ka, the North- Wind. 

Kagh, the hedgehog. 

Ka'-go, a strong negative, "Do not totich it." 

Kah-gah'-gee, the raven; King of ravens. 

Kaw, a strong exclamation, "Xot so! It cannot be!" 

Ka-ween', an exclamation stronger than Kaw, "No indeed!" 

Kay-oshk', the sea-gull. 

Kee'-go, a fish. 

Kee-way'-din, the Northwest- Wind ; the Home Wind. 

Ken-a'-beek, a serpent; the name of two counters, ("men"), in the 
Indian Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. 

Ken-eu', a great war-eagle. 

Ken-o'-zha, the pickerel. 

K6-ko-ko'-ho, the owl. 

Kun-tas-soo', the Game of Plum-stones; played in a manner sim- 
ilar to Pugasaing. with the difTerence that plum-stones are used in- 
stead of shaped "men." 

Kwa'-sjnd, the Strong Man; friend of Hiawatha. 

Kwo-ne'-she, (Diish-kwo-ne'-she), the dragon-fly. 

Lake of Silver, the lake over which, according to Indian supersti- 
tion, pass the departed souls in their journey to the other world. 

Lily of the Prairie, Wenonah, daughter of Nokomis and mother of 
Hiawatha. 

Little People, pygmies; Indian fairy folk. 

Loon'-Heart, an appellation of praise, used of Hiawatha. 

Mahn-ah-be'-zee, the swan. 

Mahng, the loon. 

Mahn-go-tay'-see, loon-hearted; brave. 

Mahn-o-mo'-nee, the wild rice. 

Ma' -ma, the woodpecker. 

Man' -dans, a tribe of North American Indians belonging to the 
Siouan stock, living originally along the upper Missouri. 

Man'-i-to, a spirit; a guardian spirit; any spirit, whether good or 
evil. 

Mas-ken-6'-zha, the pike. 

Master of Life, Gitche Manito, the Indians' Chief Spirit. 

Me' -da, a medicine-man; a conjurer. 



418 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Me-da'-min, knowledge of simples; the art of healing and conjuring. 

Meen-ah'-gah, the blueberry. 

Meg-is-s6g'-won, Pearl-Feather, a great magician, and the Manito 
of Wealth. 

Mesh-i-nau'-wa, an attendant; a pipe-bearer. 

Min-je-kah'-wun, Hiawatha's magic mittens. 

Min-ne-ha'-ha, Laughing Water, the wife of Hiawatha. — A water- 
fall on a little stream emptying into the Mississippi River between 
Fort Snelling and the Falls of St. Anthony. 

Min-ne-wa'-wa, the moaning sound of the wind in the pine trees. 

Mish'-e Mok'-wa, the Great Bear. 

Mish'-e Nah'-ma, the Great Sturgeon, King of Fishes. 

Mis-k5-deed', the Spring Beauty, {Claytonia Virginica), the earliest 
of our wild-flowers. 

Mississippi, theFather of Waters. 

Mit'-che Man'-I-t5, the Spirit of Evil, opposed to Gitche Manito. 

M5' -hawks, a tribe of North American Indians of the Iroquoian 
stock, originally living in eastern New York. 

M6n-da'-min, Indian maize, "the friend of man"; the Spirit's grain 
or berry- 

Moon of Bright Nights, April. 

Moon of Falling Leaves, September. 

Moon of Leaves, May. 

Moon of Snow-Shoes, November. 

Moon of Strawberries, June. 

Mountains of the Prairie, Missouri Coteau, an elevated region in 
North Dacotah at the source of the Blue Eartli River. 

Mud-je-kee-'wis, the West Wind, father of Hiawatha. 

Mud-way-aush'ka, the splashing sound of waves on the shore. 

Mush-k5-da'-sa, the grouse. 

Mus'-k5-day, the meadow. 

Na'-g5w WQd'-j5, the Sand Dunes of Lake Superior. 

Nah'-m£L, the sturgeon. 

Naked Bear, the Great Bear of the Mountains, the Indian "bug- 
bear." 

Na-wa-da'-ha, the musician, poet, minstrel; a friend of Hiawatha. 

Nee-ba-naw'-baigs, the spirits of the water. 

Ne-ne-moo'-sha, sweetheart. 

Ne-pah'-win, Spirit of Sleep. 

Noh-ma'-wusk, the spearmint. 

N6-ko'-mis, a grandmother; the mother of Wenonah and the grand- 
mother of Hiawatha. 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 419 

N6'-sa, my father. 

Nush'-ka, a strong exclamation, "Look! look!" 

O-dah'-min, the strawberry. 

0-jeeg', the Fisher Weasel: the Summer-Maker. 

O-jib'-ways, a tribe of the Algonquin stock of North American In- 
dians, better known as the Chippeways, living originally in the Lake 
Superior region. 

O-ka-ha'-wis, the herring. 

Old Man of the Mountains, the chief mountain spirit, the Manito of 
Mountains. 

0' -ma-has, a branch of the great Siouan stock of North American 
Indians originally living in the Elkhorn River region. 

O-me'-me, the pigeon. 

O-na'-gon, a bowl; the bowl used in the Indian Game of the Bowl. 
See Pugasaing. 

on-a-way', an exclamation, "Awake!" 

O-pe'-chee. the robin. 

ds-se'-o. Son of the Evening Star. 

O-wais'-sa, the bluebird. 

0- wee' -nee, wife of Osseo. 

O-za-wa'-beek, the name of four round pieces of copper or brass 
used as counters ("men"), in the Indian Game of the Bowl. See 
Pugasaing. 

Pah-puk-kee'-na, the grasshopper. 

Paim-o-said', a thief of cornfields; th-.^ blight of a corn-ear. 

Pau-guk, Death. 

Pau-Puk-Kee'-wis, a handsome youth; the Storm Fool who danced 
at Hiawatha's wedding-feast; the Mischief-Maker finally killed by 
Hiawatha. 

Pau-wa'-ting, the Indian name of Sault Sainte Marie, the river form- 
ing the international canal between Lake Superior and Lake Huron. 

Paw-nees', a brancli of the Caddoan stock of North American In- 
dians, living originallj' in the Arkansas valley. 

Peapl Feather, a great magician ;the Manito of wealth and wampum. 

Pe'-bo-an, Winter; the Spirit of AVinter. 

Pem'-I-can, (also spelled Pem'-mi-can), strips of venison dried, 
pounded into paste with fat and aromatic berries, and pressed into cakes ; 
prepared and used extensively by the North American Indians for food. 

Pez-he-kee', the bison. 

Pictured Rocks, a series of sandstone cliffs, three hundred feet in 
height, stretching for five miles along the shore of Lake Superior about 
fifty miles east of Marquette in Northern Michigan. 



420 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Pish-ne-kuh' , the l)rant, a species of wild goose breeding in the Arctic 
regions and coming southward in the autumn. 

P6-ne'-mah, the land of the Hereafter. 

Pu-ga-saing', the name of tlie Indian Game of the Bowl. Cf. note 
on line 65, Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

Piig-ga-wau'-giin, a war club; the name of a counter, ("man"), in 
the Game of the Bowl. See Pugasaing. 

Puk-wa'-na, the smoke of the Peace-Pipe. 

Puk-Wud'-jies, Little People; pygmies; Indian fairy folk. 

Red Pipe-Stone Quapry, a qviarry in southern Minnesota famous for 
its yield of the red pipe-clay used by the Indians for making pipes. 

Sah-sah-je'-wun, rapids. 

Sa,h'-wa, the yellow perch. 

Se-bo-wTsh'-a, the brook or rivulet. 

Seg-wun', Spring; the Spirit of Spring. 

Sha-da, the pelican. 

Sha-bo'-min, the gooseberry. 

Shah-shah, long ago. 

Shau-go-da'-ya, a coward. 

Shaw-ga-shee', the craw-fish. 

Sh^-won-da'-see, the South- Wind. 

Shaw-Shaw, the swallow. 

Shesh'-eb-wug, a duckling; tlie name of three counters, ("men"), 
in the Indian Game of the Bowl. Sec Pugasaing. 

Shln-ge'-bis, the diver or gre1)e, a species of diving bird. 

Sho-sho'-nies, one of the great stocks of North American Indians 
living in the Great Basin. 

Sh5-wain'-ne-me'-shln, a strong exclamation, "Pity me!" 

Shuh-shuh-gah, the blue heron. 

Soan-ge-ta'-ha, strong-hearted; an appellation of praise used of 
Hiawatha. 

Stone Canoe, the boat which, according to Indian superstition, car- 
ried the departed souls across the Silver Lake to the land of the Here- 
after. 

Sub-be-ka'-she, the spider. 

Stig-ge'-ma, the mosquito. 

Tail-in-the-Aip, literal translation of the Indian name for squirrel. 
Tam'-ar-aek, the larch tree. 

Ta-qua-me'-naw, a river and bay in northeastern Michigan. 
Ta-wa-sen'-tha, a valley in Albany County, New York, now called 
Norman's Kill. 



Notes on The Song of Hiawatha 421 

Thundc Mountains, elevations on the north sliore of Lake Superior. 

Totom, an ancestral sign of descent, corresponding to the coat-of- 
arms. 

Tus-ca-loo'-sa, a river and valley of western Alabama named from 
the Black Warrior and Ijetter known by that name. 

tJgh, yes; Indian grunt of satisfaction. 
U-gud-wash', the sunflsh. 
ynk-ta-hee', the God of Water. 

Wa-bas'-so, the rabbit; the land of the North. 

Wa-be'-n5, a magician; a juggler; a conjurer. 

Wa-be'-n5-wusk, yarrow, an herb with a pungent odor and taste 
used by the medicine-men in their healing and conjuring. 

Wa-bun, the East-Wind. 

Wa-bun An'-nung, the star of the East; the Morning Star. 

Wa-ge'-min, the thief of corn-fields; the blight of a corn-ear. Cf. 
Paimosaid. 

Wa-h5-n6'-win, a cry of lamentation; moaning. 

Wah-wah-tay'-see, the firefly. 

Wam'-pum, beads of shell, used by the American Indians as cur- 
rency, and worn as necklaces, bracelets, belts, scabbards, etc. ; woven 
into patterns that could he translated, wampum also served as a means 
for preserving dates, events, treaties, etc., for future reference. 

W^u-be-wy'-6n, a white skin wrapper. 

Wa'-wa, the wildgoose. 

Waw-beek, the black rock, dreaded hy Mudjekeewis. 

Waw-be-wa'-vva, the white goose. 

Wa-w6n-ais'-sa, the whippoorwill. 

Way-ha-way', an exclamation, signifying "good cheer!'' 

Way-muk-kwa'-na, the caterpillar. 

Way-was' -si-mo, the lightning. 

Wen'-di-goes, the giants. 

We-no'-nah, daughter of Nokomis and mother of Hiawatha. 

White-man's- Foot, (called also Englishman's Foot), the common 
plantain, so called by the American Indians because its introduction 
by the white settlers marked the advance of English civilization. 
The leaf of the plant suggests a foot in shape. 

Wy-o'-mlng, a valley in northern Pennsylvania made memorable by 
the massacre of 1778. 

Yen-a-diz'-ze, a fop; a lazy trifler; a term of reproach applied to 
Pau-Puk-Keewis. 



422 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

THE COURTSHIP OP MILES STANDISH 

Line 1. Old Colony days. The Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, on 
the Massachusetts coast, December 21, 1620, (Old style December 11). 
Plymouth. Plymouth, Mass. was so named first by Captain John 
Smith, perhaps because of a fancied resemblance in situation to Ply- 
mouth, England ; and this name was confirmed by the Pilgrim Fathers 
on account of the kindness which they had received at that port before 
leaving their native land. The village consists of a few principal 
streets and a number of by-lanes running olT into the surrounding 
country. Of these streets the first laid out by the Pilgrims is of course 
the most interesting. They judiciously decided to build upon high 
ground where much of the land had been cleared and planted with 
corn by the Indians. 

"In the afternoon of December 28," writes Bradford, "we went to 
measure out the grounds, and first we took notice how many families 
were there, willing all single men that had no wives to join with some 
family, as they sought fit, that so we might build fewer^ houses ; which 
was done, and we reduced them to nineteen families. We thought 
this proportion was large enough at the first for houses and gardens 
to impale them round, considering the weakness of our people." 

To the main street they gave the name of "Leyden," after the city 
in Holland where they had had refuge for so many years. "Fore- 
father's Rock," the rock on which they first stepped, is in the present 
Water Street, and is now covered by a handsome granite canopy sur- 
mounted by a colossal statue of Faith. "Burial Hill" is another notable 
spot, rising, as it does, conspicuously above all the buildings, a lofty 
green mound covered with dark-grey tombstones. The view from here 
embraces the whole field of Pilgrim adventure, from the arrival on the 
coast to the settlement and the after conflicts with the Indians and the 
elements. (Adapted from Bartlett's Pilgrim Fathers). 

3. Doublet and hose. Characteristic gentlemen's dress of the six- 
teenth and early seventeenth centuries. The doublet was a close- 
fitting outer body-garment with sleeves, and sometimes a short skirt 
belted at the waist. The skirt was full, and the lower edge was gath- 
ered so as to fit the leg snugly. This gave a kind of puff effect to the 
part of the garment covering the hips. The hose, often of finest silk 
and wool, served the purpose of trousers. They fitted the leg tight, 
and extended from the puff to the feet. Cordovan leather. Goat skins 
prepared originally at Cordova in Spain. The English word, cordwain. 
meaning Spanish tanned goat-skin, is reminiscent of the place where 
the leather first came to fame. 

4. Miles Standish, the Puritan Captain. One of the most prominent 



Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 423 

members of the Puritan band, and one whose nerve and com-age con- 
tributed much toward carrying the little colony through its many perils. 
He was small of stature, but his constitution was of iron, and his natural 
fearlessness, nurtured by a military training, made him a fighter of 
renown. He was born in Lancashire, England, in 1574, descended 
from the old house of Standish, famous from Norman times. Miles 
Standish early chose the profession of arms, and served with the army 
sent by Queen Elizabeth to the assistance of the Dutch in their strug- 
gle against Spain. At Leyden, he fell in with the Pilgrims, and. in- 
duced by love of adventure as well as by sympathy with their prin- 
ciples, he joined the Pilgrims' emigration to America. He was a pas- 
senger in the Mayflower together with his daughter and his wife. Rose 
Standish, who died one month after the landing, December 1620. 
His next wife came over in the Anne in 1623; so we may imagine the 
refusal of Priscilla did not leave him inconsolable. Captain Standish's 
promptness in killing the Indian leaders at the time of the Paomet and 
JNIassachusett conspiracy, made his name a terror among the savages. — 
a fact which was probably the salvation of the settlement. He was 
constantly engaged in public service up to the time of his death^ 
October 3, 1656. (Adapted from the Genealogical Dictionary of New 
England.) 

8. Corselet. The complete body-armor of a soldier; or. by restric- 
tion, merely the breastplate. Sword of Damascus. Damascus blades are 
swords or scimeters of finest steel, the siirface of which presents a 
watered effect, the result of very fine engraving, an art never discov- 
ered in the West. The city of Damascus in Syria was famous in the 
Middle Ages for its production of these steel blades. The blades 
often bore some mysterious legend, e. g. "Kismet." 

The Pilgrim Society at Plymouth and the Massachusetts Historical 
Society both have original Damascus swords once the property of Miles 
Standish. 

10. Fowling-piece, musket, matchlock. A fowling-piece is the name 
of a small gun used in bird-hunting; the musket was a light infantry 
gun; matchlocks were muskets commonly in use in the sixteenth cen- 
tury and early in the seventeenth. The lock held a match or a piece 
of twisted flax to retain the fire. Allusions to this kind of fire-arm 
are frequent in Bradford's and Winslow's Journals, found in Young's 
Chronicles of the Pilgrims. 

15. John Alden. "John Alden was hired for a cooper at Southamp- 
ton where the ship [the Mayflower] victualled; and being a hopeful 
young man, was much desired, but left to his own liking to go or stay 
when he came here [to Plj^mouth]; but he stayed and married here.'' 
(From Bradford's Journal.) 



424 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

Longfellow (Hue 20) speaks of liim as the youngest man who came 
in the Mayflower; he was the last survivor of those who signed the 
far-famed Compact. He died at Duxl)ury in 1686 at the age of eighty- 
seven, after a life of quiet prominence in the history of the Plymouth 
Plantation. 

19. Not Angles but Angels. A monk named Gregory, afterwards 
Pope Gregory the Great, while passing through tlie slave-market at 
Rome, noticed three slaves of "delicate Saxon complexion" in striking 
contrast with the types around them. Upon inquiring who they were 
and whence they came, he was told that they were Angles from Britain, 
which country had recently been overrun by the Angles and Saxons, 
Germanic tribes from the continent. Gregory was strongly moved by 
the Jjeauty of the captives, and vowed to send them the gospel. "Not 
Angles, but Angels," said he, "and they ought to be the fellow heirs of 
heaven." St. Augustine with a band of forty missionaries, commis- 
sioned by Pope Gregory, carried the gospel to England, 597 A. D. 

25. Flanders. Miles Standish fought for the Dutch against the 
Spanish "in the Flemish morasses." 

28. Arcabucero. A Spanish word formerly signifying archer; but 
as the weapons changed, the word came to mean a soldier using any 
weapon. — Cf. the English arquebusicr. 

32-33. Note the characteristic Puritan introduction of Biblical 
phrase in ordinary speech. 

38. Inkhorn. Scribes usually carried ink in horns attached to 
their dress; hence the word. 

39. My great, im^incible army. Twelve men seem a small number 
for an invincible army, but the Captain is serious along with his pleas- 
antry. The little military company did great service to the colony 
during the first winter in protecting it from sudden attacks by the 
Indians. In Indian warfare a few men with guns were sufficient to 
keep back many times their number. 

41. Eighteen shillings; diet; pillage. Estimate the pay of these 
Colonial regulars, and compare with a soldier'spay of today. 

42. Ccesar. Caius Julius Caesar, the celebrated Roman warrior, 
statesman, and writer, 100-44 B. C. The feat attributed to him in 
this poem — that he knew each of his soldiers by name — applied to 
his favorite legion, the Twelfth. Cf. lines 108 following. 

46. Howitzer. A small cannon with low elevation for projecting 
shells at close range. Cf. Mortar. 

53. The names of the Indians introduced here are taken from the 
early chronicles of the Pilgrim days. To determine the accent in each 
word, scan the line. 



Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 425 

61. Rose Standiah. Rose Standish died January 29. 1621. one 
month after the landing. The tender frame of woman sank under 
the protracted privations and hardships the colonists underwent. 
Bradford. Standish, Allerton, and Winslow were all left widowers in 
the course of a few weeks. Six of the colonists died in December, eij^ht 
in January, seventeen in February, and thirteen in March — until of the 
little band scarcely half remained. Had not the winter, severe at all 
times, proved miusually mild, not one. in all probability, would have 
been left to tell the tale. (Adapted from Cartlett's Pilgrim Fathers.) 

64. Field of wheat. Those who died during the first winter were 
buried on a bluff near the shore, and the graves were smoothed flat 
in order to prevent the Indians from discovering how many the colony 
had lost. As early as was feasible, the ground, graves and all, was sown 
with wheat to continue the delusion. (Adapted from Holmes's Annals 
of America.) 

70. Bariffe's Artillery Guide. Colonel William Bariffe was a Puri- 
tan whose elaborate work on military discipline had great influence 
in the first half of the seventeenth century. Appended to the elaborate 
title page of a dozen lines, a sixteenth and seventeenth century literary 
custom, was this quotation: "Blessed be the Lord my Strength wliich 
teacheth my hands to warre and my fingers to fight." Psalms 144: 1. 
Commentaries of Ccesar. Caesar's account of the Gallic Wars he waged 
during the nine years of his governorship of the Gallic provinces, 5S- 
49 B. C. 

71. Arthur Goldinge. A voluminous translator of many classical 
works of which the Metamorphoses of Ovid is the best. He was a con- 
temporary of Sir Philip Sidney, by whom he was patronized. 

75. Wars of the Hebrews. After the Jews had settled in Canaan, a 
series of conquests of heathen hosts was effected. Ijeginning under the 
leadership of Joshua. The narrative of these wars is found in the 
historical portion of the Old Testament. 

77. Ponderous Roman. Why ponderous? 

83. The Mayflower sailed from Plymouth April 5, 1621, on her 
retiu*n voyage, reaching England May 6. 

85. The full list of Pilgrims as given in the appendix to Bradford's 
History of Plymouth, includes the names of the men who signed the 
Compact, the wives that came in the Mayflower, and their children and 
servants. There were in all one hundred and two passengers. The 
following list contains the names of the forty-one men who signed the 
Compact, the eighteen wives, and the three young women, unmarried. 
The names of the children and of the men- and maid-servants may be 
found in Bradford's list. 



426 



Narrative Poems of LofujfcUnw 



John Carver. 

William Bradford. 
Edward Winslow. 
William Brewster. 
Isaac AUertoii. 
Myles Staiidish. 
John Alden. 
Samuel Fuller. 
Christopher Martin. 
William JNIulliiis. 

William White. 
Richard Warren. 
John Howland. 
Stephen Hopkins. 
Edward Tilley. 
Jolui Tilley. 
Francis Cook. 
Thomas Rogers. 
Thomas Tinker. 
John Rigdale. 
Edward Fuller. 
John Turner. 
Francis Eaton. 
James Chilton. 

John Crackston. 
John Billington. 
Moses P^letcher. 
John Goodman. 
Degory Priest. 
Thomas Williams. 
Gilbert Winslow. 
Edward Margeson. 
Peter Brown. 
Richard Britteridge. 
George Soule. 
Richard Clark. 
Richard Gardiner. 
John Allerton. 
Thomas English. 
Edward Dotey. 
Edward Lister. 



Mrs. Catherine Carver. 
Miss Desire Minter. 
Mrs. Dorothy Bradford. 
Mrs. Elizabeth Wiuolow. 
Mrs. Mary Brewster. 
Mrs. Mary Allerton. 
Mrs. Rose Standish. 



Mrs. Martin. 

Mrs. Mullins. 

Miss Priscilla Mullins. 
Mrs. Susanna White. 



Mrs. Elizal)eth Hopkins. 
Mrs. Ann Tilley. 
Mrs. Elizabeth Tilley. 



Mrs. Tinker. 

Mrs. Alice Rigdale. 
Mrs. — Fuller. 

Mrs. Sarah Eaton. 
Mrs. Mary Chilton. 
Miss Mary Chilton. 

Mrs. Ellen Billington. 



.Vo^e.s on The Courtship of Miles Standish 427 

f w°'. '^^^^'"'' Village. The Iberiaiis were the pre-Aryan inhabitants 
of Western Europe, represented today by the Basques. Plutarch in 
his hfe of Juhus Caesar, narrates that as Ca?sar crossing the Alps was 
passnig tlirough a small village of barbarians, few in number and 
wretchedly poor, his companions asked mockingly if there we-e any 
canvassmg for office there, any contention as to who should be greatest • 
any feuds arising from contest of great men with each other To all 
this Ca-sar responded: "I had rather be first man among these fellows 
than the second man in Rome." 

104. Flanders. A county of the Low Lands, famous in the relig- 
ious wars against Spain, where Miles Standish fought before he joined 
the Pilgrims. Flanders, in the days of Julius Caesar, was a part of 
Craul. a general name given to nearly all of Western Europe. 

105. The orator Brutus. Marcus Brutus. a distinguished son of 
Kome. who. for the good of Rome, joined the conspiracy against 
Cssar and helped to murder him in the Capitol. March 15 44 B C 
After the unsuccessful Battle of Philippi. two years later. Brutus died 
on his own sword. 

108. Twelfth Legion. The Roman army was divided into legions 
each legion consisting of about five thousand men. The Twelfth 
Legion was Cagsar's favorite. 

109. The incident here related is found in Cc-esar's Commentaries, 
Book 11. chapter 10. 

133. Genesis ii: 18. "And the Lord God said it is not good that 
the man should be alone; I will make an helpmeet for him." 

139. "Mr. Muhins. and his wife, his son. and his servant, died the 
first winter. Only his daughter Priscilla survived. . " (Brad 

ford's History of Plymouth.) 

160. There is no reason to believe that the reference here is any 
more than a traditional belief without foundation. 

188. Populous trees. Why populous? Compsire populous nests, 
Evangeline line 136. Hanging gardens. The reference is to the famous 
Hanging Gardens built by Nebuchadnezzar for his beautiful Median 
queen. Compare Daniel v. 

• ^?^T. ^^^^^^^ <^^his entire expression with the corresponding thought 
in the Preceptor's Speech, The Birds of Killingworth, and note the cor- 
responding delicacy and beauty of thought and expression. 

199. Desolate shores. The shores of New England, even at the 
present time, are remarkably rugged and cheerless. What must have 
been their aspect during the winter of 1620. Read Mrs. Hemans's 
poem. ''The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers." 

206. Astaroth, Baal. The names of Phoenician deities. Astaroth. 



428 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

sometimes spelled Astarte, corresponds to the Roman Venus. (See 
Judges ii: 12. 13, and I. Samuel xii: 10.) 

210. Mayflowers. In England, the Mayflower is the' hawthorn ; 
but the poet here means the Trailing Arbutus, called Mayflower by the 
Pilgrims, possibly in memory of the English flower. The Arbutus 
flowers early in the New England spring. 

220. Disk. What picture is called up by the use of this word? 

224. Hundredth Psalm. This is practically the music of Old Hun- 
dred. Ainsworth's version of the Psalm was printed (about 1000), in 
Holland, whither he had fled in 1590 to escape further persecution after 
becoming a Brownist. Compare Ainsworth's version of the hundredth 
Psalm given below with the authorized version, and not the differences. 

1. Bow to Jehovah all the earth. 

2. Serve ye Jehovah with gladness; before him come with singing 
mirth. 

3. Know that Jehovah he God is. It's he that made us and not 
we. his flock and sheep of his feeding. 

4. Oh, with confession enter ye his gates, "his courtyard with prais- 
ing. Confess to him, bless ye his name. 

5. Because Jehovah he good is; his mercy ever is the same, and 
his faith unto all ages. 

225. Luther. Martin Luther was the German leader of the Prot- 
estant Reformation in the early part of the sixteenth centm-y. 

228. Wheel. The spinning wheel consisted of a large wheel, band, 
and spindle, and was driven by the hand or foot. The process of spin- 
ning is an interesting one. Look up an account of it in some good 
reference book, such as The American Mechanical Dictionary. 

229. Ravenous spindle. Why ravenous? What is the figure? Its 
force? 

245. Compare Luke ix: 62. 

248. Compare Psalms cxxxvi. 

269. Hedgerows of England. One of the most beautiful and pic- 
turesque sights in rural England is the hedgerow, used instead of the 
fence to mark division of the fields. Covered with vines and blossoms, 
the hedgerows truly make the country seem "like a garden." The 
description here of an English village is as beautiful as it is accurate- 

320. Pedigree. "There are at this time in England two ancient 
famflies of the name [Standish], one of Standish HaU and the other of 
Duxbury Park, both in Lancashire, who trace their descent from a 
common ancestor, Ralph de Standish. living in 1221. There seems 
always to have been a military spirit in the family. Froissart. relat- 
ing in his Chronicles tlie memorable meeting between Richard II and 
Wat Tyler, says that after the rebel was struck from his horse by Wii- 



Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 429 

liam Walworth, 'then a squyer of the Kynges alyted, called Jolm 
Standysshe. and he drewe out his sworde, and put into Wat Tyler's 
belye, and so he dyed.' For this act Standish was knighted. In 1415, 
another Sir Jolin Standish fought at the Battle of Agiucourt. From 
his giving the name of Duxbury to the town where he settled, near 
Plymouth, and calling his eldest son Alexander (a common name in 
the Standish family), I have no doulit that Miles Standish was a scion 
from this ancient and warlike stock." (Young's Chronicles of the 
Pilarims.) 

323. Basely defrauded. In his will Miles Standish gave to his 
"son and heir-apparent, Alexander Standish," certain lands "given 
rae as right heir by lawful descent, but svureptitiously detained from 
me; my great-grandfather being a second younger brother from the 
house of Standish of Standish." 

324. Family arms. The design here described is that of a white 
cock with red comb. Look up the article on Heraldry in the Ency- 
clopedia. 

332. Magnanimous. From the derivation, what is the difference 
between "magnanimous" and "great of heart?" 

343. Read Revelation xxi: 10-27, and compare with this passage 
in the poem. 

344. John the Apostle. St. Jolm, the beloved disciple, the author 
of one of the four gospels, the general epistles, and the Revelation. 

347. Reed. An ancient Hebrew measure of length, equivalent to 
six cubits, or about tliree and one-half yards. 

361, The Prophet. Nathan, a Hebrew prophet in the time of King 
David. 

362. David's transgression. See II. Samuel, xi. David having 
fallen in love with Bathsheba, the wife of his friend Uriah, sent Uriah 
to war, in the front of the battle, that he might be killed. When this 
had been accomplished, David married Uriah's widow, but Nathan 
announced to him. "It hath displeased the Lord." 

John Alden's position is by no means the same as David's but from 
Alden's point of view, what is the force of the comparison? 

376. Compare Exodus xiv: 21-29. 

388. Compare Revelation xix: 7. 

392. Seven houses of Plymouth. Edward Winslow, in a letter to a 
friend in England dated December 11, 1621. writes: "You shall under- 
stand that in this little time that a few of us have l)een here, we have 
built seven dwelling-houses and foiu- for the use of the plantation." 
(Young's Chronicles of the Pilgrims.) 

396. Ilainault, Brabant, Flanders. Counties of the Modern Nether- 
lands, the territory of the Belgte of Ctesar's time. 



430 Narrative Poems of Longjellow 

415. Wat Tyler. The leader of the rebellion against Richard II. 
Wat Tyler was slain by a "certain Jolui Standysshe," a squire of the 
King's. See note on line 320. 

421. You too, Brutus! The ''Et tu Brute!" of Shakespeare's JMiiua 
Ccesar, Act iii. scene i, line 77. 

437. Compare Matthew vi: 4. 

442. Elder of Plymouth. Elder William Brewster was chosen Min- 
ister of the Pilgrim Church until their regular pastor, Jolin Robinson, 
should come to America. As Robinson died in Holland without ever 
seeing America, Brewster continued to conduct the services of the 
church, preaching twice daily, up to the time of liis death in 1644. In 
the Plymouth Church there were two elders, the ruling elder, who main- 
tained himself, exercising the functions of the modern deacon, and the 
teaching elder, maintained by the people, exercising the functions of 
teacher and preacher. In the absence of Robinson, Brewster com- 
bined both offices. 

Explain the descriptive epithet, "The hill that was nearest to heaven, 
covered with snow." 

443. Three Kingdoms. The dissenters from the established churches 
of England, France, and Holland, had been cruelly persecuted until 
the stoutest-hearted were forced to flee as refugees. When, by happy 
chance, they came together at Leyden, a common refuge, common 
interests readily brought them to coalesce to form one chm-ch. 

444. Sifted the wheat. Explain how the Pilgrims to America were 
doubly "sifted." The figiu-e here used appears first in William Stough- 
ton's election sermon of 1668: "God sifted a whole nation that he might 
send a choice grain over into this wilderness." 

448. Bible printed in Holland- The Bible brought over in the 
Mayflower was the Genevan version, clung to by the Piu"itans long after 
the King James version had been published in 1611. Owing to opposi- 
tion in England, this version was printed in Holland, — once in Am- 
sterdam. 

450. Skin of a rattlesnake. In January 1622, the Narragansett 
Indians assumed an insolent and threatening attitude. Canonicus. 
their sachem, sent a messenger with a bundle of arrows wrapped in a 
rattlesnake skin in token of enmity and hostile intentions. This was 
the most numerous and most warlike tribe in New England, numbering 
thirty thousand, of whom five thousand were warriors. As soon 
nevertheless, as the Pilgrims understood from Squanto the purport of 
this symbolic message, the skin of the rattlesnake was stuffed with 
powder and ball and returned to Canonicus with the "assurance that if 
he [Standish] had l)ut shipping to go in quest of him, he would not have 
failed to anticipate so insolent a challenge.'' The Indians were at no 



Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 431 

loss to comprehend both the meaning of the answer and the spirit that 
prompted it, and the Pilgrims were unmolested. Nevertheless as a 
matter of precaution, the PUgrims surrounded the entire town with a 
stockade wlnle Captain Standish marshalled the whole company into 
four squadrons, making a regular military institution. (Abridged from 
Bartlett's Pilgrim Fathers.) 

457. John Robinson, then in Holland, when he was Informed of 
the colonists' first encounter with the Indians, wrote to the settlers- 

Oh how happy a thing had it been, if you had converted some before 
you had killed any." 

487 Eight of his valorous army. Four were left behind to defend 
the village. See line 40. "twelve men." 

^J^?-/^^'dianites and Philistines. Heathen tribes warred on by 
the children of Israel. 

507. Beautiful were his feet. Compare Isaiah lii- 7 

547. Stephen Hopkins. Richard Warren. Gilbert Winslow.— name* 
taken from Bradford's official list. See note on line 85 

Wh'alis tlffigufer"'"'" ''''■' ''"^' "^'^ corner-stone of a nationT" 

600. Compare Luke ix: 62. 

605 Point of the Gurnet. The name Gurnet, borrowed from an 
English cape, was given by the Pilgrims to a headland enclosing the 
northern part of Plymouth Bay. ^iobiag uie 

rod?®' F ^fri' ..^^%^ ^^^^^"^ '"^ Plymouth Bay. Cape of Sand. Cape 
Cod? Field of the Fzrst Encounter. The place on Eastham shore 
where the Pilgrims had their first meeting with the Indians. December 
8. 1620. before they had landed at Plymouth, while the ship was still 
at anchor in what is now Provincetown Harbor. 

611. Compare Ephesians v: 18. 

626. Compare Genesis i: 2, 

629. Loadstone. A natural magnet having the power of attracting 
other pieces of iron. (Sometimes spelled lodestone.) 

665. River Euphrates. This is an important river in ancient history. 
Ilguring in the earliest Aryan records. Locate it on the map. What 
river IS associated with it? What is the region between the two rivers 

of hppf vf'^^"^'^'""^"'""^"""' '^""^■^«^- A region southwest 

IaI n^ "" ^''"^ "^^^ '^' ^^ ^^^^"^ ^^^e Euplirates has its source. 
Muu /'^^?'" '^'^''^'^^- Distinguish between the Pilgrims of the 
Midd e Ages here referred to. and the Puritan Pilgrims. What was 
the object of the journeys of the former to Jerusalem? What is the 
sign.flcance of "taking three steps in advance and one reluctantly back- 
ward, in the case of the medieval Pilgi-im and of John Alden'^ 

725. The account of the expedition northward here introduced fs 



432 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

based on Wiiislow's report. — "Relation of Standish's Expedition against 
the Indians of Weymouth, and the breaking up of Weston's Colony at thai 
place," — given in full in Young's Chronicles. The expedition took 
place in March 1623 instead of April 1621, as the poet makes it. 

Mr. Weston, a friend of the Pilgrims in London, had settled a small 
colony at Weymouth, about twenty miles northwest of Plymouth. 
Owing to tactless dealing with the Indians, the Weymouth colonists 
suffered much at the hands of the natives. The Pilgrims, out of defer- 
ence to their old friend, sent Standish and his "army" to their rescue. 
Shortly after some of the Weymouth colonists joined the Plymouth 
band ; the rest went back to London. 

752. Furs. Staple articles of primitive trade. 

755. Goliath of Gath. Read I Samuel xvii: 4-7. Og, King of Baa- 
han. Deuteronomy iii: 1-11. 

756. Pecksuot, Watiawamat. Determine where the accent falls by 
scanning the line. 

The names appear in the Plymouth records and, therefore, are not 
chosen at random. 

757. Scabbards of wampum, (.'ompare note on line 4, "The Peace- 
Pipe," in The Song of Hiawatha. 

761. To barter and chaffer for peltries. To exchange articles for furs. 

765. The plague. A fiction invented by Squanto, an Indian friend 
of the Pilgrims. 

776. The incident here is an embellished elaboration of a passage 
in Winslow's Relation. 

787. Note the three- fold insult to Miles Standish. Men of low 
stature (as was Standish) were looked down upon by the braves; work 
was the province of inferior beings; to be called a woman was the 
greatest evidence of an Indian's contempt. 

803-804. The battle here described was the only battle fought 
between the Pilgrims and the Indians for over fifty years. 

806. "Watching his opportunity, when four of them, Wittuwamet, 
Pecksuot, another Indian, and a youth of eighteen, brother of Wittu- 
wamet, and about as many of his own men, were in the same room, 
he [Standish] gave a signal to his men; the door was instantly shut 
and, snatching the knife of Pecksuot from his neck, he killed him with 
it after a violent struggle; his party killed Wittuwamet, and the other 
Indian; and hung the youth. Proceeding to another place, Standish 
killed an Indian ; and afterward had a skirmish with a party of Indians, 
which he put to flight. Standish, with that generosity which char- 
acterizes true bravery, released the Indian women, without taking 
their beaver coats, or allowing the least incivility to be ofifered them." 
(From Abiel Holmes's Annals of America.) 



Notes on The Courtship of Miles Standish 433 

813. "Habbamock stood by aU this time as a spectator, and med- 
dled not. observing how om- men demeaned themselves in this action 
All bemg here ended, smiling, he brake forth into these speeches to 
the Captam: 'Yesterday. Peclcsuot. bragging of his own strength and 
scature. said, though you were a great captain, yet you were but a 
little man; but today I see you are big enough to lay him on the 
ground." (From Winslow's Relation.) 

818. Trophy of war. The custom of exposing such trophies was 
a common one in England, extending as late as the middle of the 
eighteenth century. Such practices as exposing the lieads of victims 
or even hanging disinterred bodies on public gi))ljets. instead of being 
considered shocking, gave the English Puritans cause for "praising the 

825. Ships of the merchants. With poetic liceiLse. the poet makes 
another conscious anaclu-onism: the Anne and the Little James, mer- 
chant ships, arrived August. 1623. instead of Autumn 1621. 

826. Corn. Not Indian corn, or maize. The word "corn" has a 
variety of meanings. In England it means eitlier wheat. l)arley rye 
and oats collectively, or more specifically wheat; in Scotland it gen- 
erally means oats; in America it means maize, or Indian corn the 
cereal peculiar to the western hemisphere. 

828. Ma estead. Derived from two old English roots, mere meaning 
boundary, and stead, place. Compare homestead. Jjedstead etc The 
first records of the Plymouth Colony with reference to land division 
contain the phrase "Meersteads and Garden-plotes." 

829. Glebe. Poetic for soil. What other meanings has olehef 

"The Virginia Company ordered a hundred acres of lan^^ in each of 

the boroughs to be laid off for a glebe." (From Holmes's Annals of 
America.) 

843. Window-panes. Window glass was considered a luxury in 
England even in Queen Elizal)eth's time. In a letter to prospective 
emigrants in England, dated November. 1621. Edward Winslow writes- 
"Bring paper and linseed oil for your windows." 

846. To this day. The present hoase in Duxburv occupied by de- 
scendants of John Alden. stands on the original site, and there are 
traces of the original foundation. 

858. Compare Proverbs xxxi: 10-28. 

867. What is the classical allusion here? 

872. Bertha the Beautiful Spinner. Bertha, the wife of Rudolph II 
of Burgundy, of which Helvetia was a part. After the death of Ru- 
dolph. 937 A. D.. the good queen governed the kingdom during the 
absence of their son Conrad, who passed his minority at the court of 
Otto I, Emperor of Germany. 



434 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

"Who has not heard of the humble gracious queen, who, mounteci 
on her palfrey, a spindle in her hand, went from castle to castlt 
from monastery to monastery, from farm-yard to farm-yard, doing 
everywhere deeds of piety and charity? One day the queen of Payerne 
— for that was her name in the traditions of Burgundy — met in the 
fields near Orbe a young peasant woman who was spinning while she 
watched her flock, Bertha, well-pleased, gave a valuable present to 
the girl. On the morrow, the ladies of her train all appeared before 
her, each with a distafT in her hand. But the queen smiled at sight of 
them. 'Ladies,' she said, 'the young peasant, like Jacob, came first« 
and she has carried away my blessing.' The rule of Queen Bertha 
and her husband, Rudolph II was distinguished by the laying of 
foundations for numerous pious and useful institutions, and the build- 
ing of churches, monasteries, bridges, roads, castles, 'and hostelries." 
(From Alexander Dagnet's History of the Swiss Confederation.) 

877. Southampton. John Alden was added to the crew when the 
Mayflower stopped at Southampton for supplies. See note on line 15. 

917. Compare Mark x: 9. 

926. The gorgeous imagery of this passage is equalled only by the 
description that inspired it, — Exodus xxviii: 31-39. In what consists 
the appropriateness of the comparison? Analyze the figure in detail. 

936. Ruth and Boaz. Read Ruth i. and ii. in the Old Testament. 

939. Laudable custom of Holland. "May 12 was the first marriage 
in this place, which, according to the laudal)le custome of the Low- 
Countries, in which they had lived, was thought most requisite to be 
performed by the magistrate, as l)eing a civill thing upon which many 
questions about inheritance doe depende, with other things most 
proper to their cognizans, and most consonante to the Scripturs, Ruth 
4. and no whcr to be found in the gospell to be layed on the ministers 
as a part of their office." (From Bradford's History of Plymouth.) 

The marriage referred to by Bradford was that of Edward Winslow 
to Mrs. Susanna White, May 12. 1021; their spouses had died in the 
preceding ^Slarch and February, respectively. It is likely that the mar- 
riage of John Alden and Priscilla was the second. 

971. Adage. What is the dramatic force of this adage in the plot 
of this story? What does the second adage mean? 

1013. Valley of Eschol. Compare Numbers xiii: 23-24. 

1015. Rebecca and Isaac. Read the story of Isaac and Rebecca in 
Genesis xxiv. 



•^c» 



TALES OF A WAYSIDE INN 

PART FIRST 

PRELUDE 

THE WAYSIDE INN 

Line 1. Sudbury town. A little town in Middlesex County, Massa- 
chusetts, east of Cambridge, now easily reached by rail. Cf. line 21. 
Head the introduction for notes on the local setting. 

9. Old Colonial day. The inscription on the first tavern sign read 
1686, indicating the probable date of its erection. 

22. Gleeds. Glowing coals. Compare Evangeline line 621. 

32. Red Horse. The custom of pictures instead of words for signs 
goes back to the Middle Ages. Chaucer's "Tabard, faste by the Belle," 
Ls a famous illustration in English literature. Compare the inn in 
Irving's Rip Van Winkle. 

53. Princess Mary. The daughter of James II, King of England, 
and wife of William. Prince of Orange. William and Mary became the 
joint rulers of England by the Revolution of 1688, which deposed 
James II. 

62. Emblazoned. A heraldic word meaning adorned with splendid 
colors like the old armorial designs. Compare Evangeline, line 492. 

63-66. These lines appeared, scratched on the pane of glass: 

What do you think f 

Here is a good drink. 
Perhaps you may not know it: 

If not in haste. 

Do stop and taste! 
You m,erry folk will show it. 

65. Major Molineaux. The reference is to Hawthorne's tale My 
Kinsman, Major Molineux. Hawthorne wrote to Longfellow expressing 
his gratification at "finding his name shining in his verse." 

68. The rapt musician. The poet's friend, Ole Bull, (1810-1880), 
Is the confessed model of this character. 

94. The Landlord. "Some two hundred years ago, an English 
family, by the name of Howe, built there [m Sudbury] a country house, 
which has remained in the family down to the present time, the last 
of the race dying but two years ago. Losing their fortune they became 
innkeepers; and for a century the Red Horse Inn has flourished, going 
down from father to son. The place is just as I described it, though 

435 



436 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

no longer an inn. All this will account for the landlord's coat-of-arms, 
and his being a justice of the peace, and his being known ar 'the 
Squire' — things that must sound strange in English ears." (From a 
letter of the poet's to an English correspondent WTitten in 1863.; 

102-109. Terms in heraldry descriptive of shields and the designs 
on them. Gules. Red, or, where color was impossible, fine vertical 
lines of black that stood for red, alternating with the silver chevron. 
Chevron argent. Silver bars issuing obliquely from the tAvo edges of 
the shield and joining in the center. Crest. A device supported by a 
wreath or coronet displayed above the shield. The description of the 
crest here is that of a helmet surmounted by a winged dragon ( Wyvern), 
the whole appearing in a vertical bar through the middle of the shield, 
(part-per-pale.) 

114. Concord. Near Cambridge in Middlesex County; the scene of 
the second battle of the American Revolution, April 19, 1775, Lexing- 
ton being the first. 

116. A Student. The prototype of this character was Henry Ware 
Wales, a Harvard scholar who died early but left a memory of promise. 
Chaucer's "Clerk of Oxenford" is brought to mind by Longfellow's 
character sketch here. 

139. Chronicles of Charlemagne. One of the four cycles of French 
Romances dealing with the deeds of Charlemagne, Alexander the Great, 
the Trojan heroes, and King Arthur and his Knights of the Round 
Table. These romances gave inspiration to the English writers of the 
period after the Norman Conquest. 

140. Merlin. Prince of enchanters, maker of the famous round 
table around which sat Arthur and his knights. Mort d'Arthure. The 
name of Malory's famous work of the fifteenth century which, in recent 
times has furnished the inspiration for Tennyson's Idylls of the King 
and numerous other poems. 

142. Characters in Boccaccio's Philopoco, one of the stories in the 
"Decameron;" see note on line 170. Chaucer gives a version of the 
same story in his Franklin's Tale. 

143. "Ferumbras" is the name of an obscure Middle English 
romance of the Norman period. The character also appears in the 
Chronicles of Charlemagne as Fierabras. "Eglamour" is the name of 
a romance of the same period as "Ferumbras." 

145. The names of knights figuring in Malory's collection of ro- 
mances, and in the romances preceding Malory. 

146. A young Sicilian. The prototype of this character was Luigi 
Monti, who, after his exile from Sicily, took up his residence in America, 
becoming one of Longfellow's intimate friends. 

151. Palermo. The siege referred to occurred in the revolution of 



Xotes on Tales of a Viayside Inn 437 

1848. The city, on the northern coast of Sicily, was reduced by the 
Boui'bons in 1849. 

153. King Bomba. Tlie nickname of Ferdinand II of Naples, 
given because of his riithless bombardment of Messina. 

166. Immortal Four. Dante (1265-1321), Petrarch (1304-1374), 
Tasso (1544-1595), and Ariosto (1474-1533). 

1 70. Decameron. The name of a collection of a hundred tales writ- 
ten or adapted by the Italian poet, Boccaccio. The setting is somewhat 
similar to Chaucer's and Longfellow's. A company of young men 
and women escaping from the plague, which is raging in Florence, 
gather at a country house in Fiesole, a mountain town near Florence^ 
and the hundred tales are supposed to be related by them during the 
ten days of their stay. The collection has furnished many poets since 
Boccaccio's time with material and inspiration. 

180. Bucolic songs. Pastoral poems. The word, ftucrtZic, of ancient 
Greek origin, meant cowherd. Meli. A Sicilian poet. (1740-1815.) 

184. Theocritus. A Greek poet of the Alexandrian age, famous for 
his Sicilian idylls. He WTote in the third century B. C. at Alexandria. 

185. A Spanish Jew. Israel Edrehi, a Boston dealer in Oriental 
goods, was the original of this character. Alicant. A province in 
southeastern Spain. 

188. Levant. A word now applied to the whole eastern world, but 
originally applied to the shores of the eastern Mediterranean, "the 
land of the simrise." 

199-200. The Moluccas and Celebes are islands in the Malay Archi- 
pelago, the former being known as "The Spice Islands." 

202. Pierre Aiphonse. A distinguished Spanish medical and theo- 
logical authority of the twelfth century, versed in Jewish lore. 

204. The Parables of Sandabar. A collection of Hebrew tales of 
the Middle Ages. 

205. The Fables of Pilpay. Pilpay (or Bidpay) was the supposed 
author of a collection of famous tales of ancient Sanscrit origin now 
reappearing in most languages of the west. The fables of LaFontaine 
are some of them borrowings from this source. 

208. Talmud and Targum. The Talmud is the body of Jewish 
civil and canonical law not comprised in the Pentateuch. The Targum 
consists of paraphrases of various parts of the Old Testament in Ara- 
niaic or Chaldee. 

209. Kabala. The mystic theosophy or philosophy of the Hebrews, 
originating about the second century A. D. Compare the word cabal 
and note its derivation and meaning. 

213. . Sackbut. A primitive musical instrument, mentioned in 
Daniel iii: 10. 



438 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

215. A Theologian. Daniel Tread veil, Professor of Physics in 
Harvard, is the original of this character ; he had a considerable interest 
in theology. 

219. Golden Rule. Compare Matthew vii: 12. 

226. Universal Church. Compare the meaning of Catholic Church. 

229. A Poet. Thomas William Parsons, an American poet best 
known tlu-ough liis translation of parts of Dante's Divine Comedy, is 
the person the poet had in mind in this sketch. 

240. Laurels of Miltiades. The fame of Miltiades, who won the 
battle of Marathon, was the source of great annoyance to the ambitious 
^id jealous Themistocles. Plutarch says, "the trophies of Miltiades 
robbed Themistocles of sleep." 

245. The Musician. The Saga of King Olaf, the first of the tales 
written, suggested bringing into the group his friend Ole Bull, a Nor- 
wegian violinist. 

253-254. A celebrated picture of the Italian painter Raffaelle 
Sanzio d' Urbinoj (1483-1520). Raphael means angel. 

259. Rtromkarl. The Norwegian genius of the river. 

269. Elivagar's river. In Norse mythology the icy and poisonous 
streams that flow out of Niflheim, the world of fog and mist. 

272. Cremona, Italy, was the home of the most famous violin- 
makers of the world, Andrea Amati, his son Antonio, and liis pupil 1 
Antonius Stradivarius. ] 

276. Tyrolean. Tyrol is an Alpine province now belonging to < 
Austria. { 

287. Harp of Gold. Look up the story of Orpheus in a classical " 
dictionary and compare with the references in this passage. '. 

THE LANDLORD'S TALE I 

PAUL REVERE'S RIDE 

This poem first appeared in the Atlantic Monthly several years before 
the poet conceived the idea of a series of tales. The circumstances ,; 
under which it was written are best told by the entries in his diary: ^ 

"April 5, 1860. Go with Sumner to Mr. H , of the North End, , 

who acts as guide to the 'Little Britain' of Boston. We go to Copp's "; 
Hill burial-ground and see the tomb of Cotton Mather, his father and , 
his son; then to the Old North Church, which looks like a parish church \ 
in London. We climb the tower to the chime of bells, now the home i 
of innumerable pigeons. From this tower were hung the lanterns as 1 
a signal that the British troops had left Boston for Concord." | 

"April 19. I wrote a few lines in Paul Revere's Ride, this being the | 
day of that achievement." i 



Xotes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 439 

The popular form of the story was current shortly after the Revolu- 
tion, but there are documentary sources of the story in a letter of Paul 
Revere to Dr. Jeremy Belknap, now printed in the Proceedings of the 
Massachusetts Historical Society. In Frothingham's History of the 
Siege of Boston the story is given according to a memorandum of 
Richard Devens, the friend and associate of Paul Revere. Long- 
fellow's version differs slightly from the facts of liistory. 

The publication of Longfellow's poem was the occasion of much 
discussion as to which church was the "Old North Church" — North 
Meeting House, in North Square, destroyed during the siege of Boston, 
or Christ Church, which still stands and is popularly called "North 
Church." Boston historians have been divided in their opinion. A 
tablet bearing the following inscription was placed in front of Christ 
Cliurch by authority of the City of Boston, Oct()l)er 17, 1878: 

The signal lanterns of Paul Revere displayed in the steeple of this 
Church, April 18. 1775, warned the country of the march of the British 
troops to Lexington and Concord. 

Other famous poems in American literature dealing with the historic 
date, April 19, 1775, are Emerson's* Concord Hymn and Lowell's Ode 
on the H undredth Anniversary of the Fight at Concord Bridge. 

20-23. Compare with this passage the stanza from Coleridge's 
Ancient Mariner: 

"And straight the sun was flecked with bars, 
(Heaven's Mother send us gra(;e.) 
As if througli a dungeon grate he peered 
With broad and burning face." 

72. Is it likely that the rider would distinguish the second light as 
it is told here? 

83. The Mystic River flows between Charlestown and Chelsea. 

INTERLUDE 

10-11. In the romances of chivalry it 'was the custom to name 
and personify the swords of heroes. La Joyeuse was the name of 
Charlemagne's sword; Colada was the sword of the Cid; Durindale 
belonged to Orlando, nephew of Charlemagne; Excalibur was the fa- 
mous sword of King Arthur; Aroundight belonged to Lancelot. 

23. Escutcheon. Heraldic shield. 

38. Ariosto. One of the "Immortal Four of Italy," 1474-1533. 

49. Palmieri's garden. The scene of the story-telling of the De- 
cameron. 

50. Fiametta. Maria, daughter of the King of Naples, was named 
Fiametta by Boccaccio. 



440 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow 

THE STUDENT'S TALE 

THE FALCON OF SER FEDERIGO 

This story, as indicated in the Interlude, is from Boccaccio's De- 
cameron. It is much older, however, than Boccaccio, having been 
found in a collection of Sanskrit fables of very ancient origin. Versions 
of the story are common in western languages, some of them being 
these: a brief tale in the Gesta Romanorum; LaFontaine's Le Faucon 
inliis C antes ct Nouvelles; Tennyson's drama, The Falcon; and others. 

Line 8. The river Arno flows through Florence. 

24. Falcon. A bird of the hawk family widely used for hunting 
in the Middle Ages. 

84. Ilex. The holm-oak of central Europe. 

86. Sylvan deities. Statues? 

88. Val d' Arno. The valley of the Arno. 

130. Pursuivant. A term in heraldry to designate a herald's at- 
tendant, or, by derivation, any follower or attendant. 

151. Auroral. From Aurora, goddess of the morn. 

193. Signor. The Anglicized form of the Italian signorc, used in 
respectful address to a gentleman. 

210. licrgamut. A kind of pear, common in Europe. 

221. Fanfares. Flourishes of trumpets. 

INTERLUDE 

Lines 8-19. The criticism here is just, but it would be impossible 
to estimate the influence of the Decameron in its inspiration to writers 
from Chaucer down. 

26-29. Shakespeare's plots were commonly taken from such sources. 
Moor of Venice, — Othello. Jew,— Shylock, in The Merchant of Venice. 

39. Talmud. The Talmud included not only the law, but also 
legends and tales of appropriate nature. 

THE SPANISH JEW'S TALE 
THE LEGEND OF RABBI BEN LEVI 

Longfellow, in all probability, received this story from his friend 
Emmanuel Vitalis Scherb. but the sources of the story may be found 
in the books Col Bo, Ben Sir a, and Ketuboth. 

Line 1. Rabbi. Teacher in contradistinction to priest, in Hebrew 
religious custom. The word now applies to a person holding a pastoral 
relation to a Hebrew congregation. 



Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 441 

.3. Compare Exodus xxxiii: 20. 

25. Celestial Town. Compare Bunyan's expression, Celestial City. 

38. Son of Levi. The Levites were set apart for the priesthood in 
the earliest days, but after the centralization at Jerusalem, they were 
subordinate to the priests, according to the Law. 

INTERLUDE 

21. Abate. Italian for abbot, but meaning an ecclesiastic of ow 
rank. 

THE SICILIAN'S TALE 
KING ROBERT OF SICILY 

The story of this poem is old and well-known, appearing in many 
forms and languages. The Gcsta Romanorum gives it as the story of 
Jovinian, a Cliristian Emperor of Rome in the fourth century. It 
appears in some legends of southern India. A middle English metrical 
romance, Robert of. Cysille, is practically the same in theme and devel- 
opment. The story dates back in some form to the history of Solo- 
mon. Longfellow probal)ly based his version of the story on Leigh 
Hunt's poem in A Jar of Honey from Mt. Ilybla. The story, deserv- 
edly popular, has been retold since Longfellow wrote his poem, one 
of the best versions being in William Morris's The Earthly Paradise. 
The poem is strikingly picturesqvxe and dramatic. The moral is neither 
added nor deduced but inheres as an essential element. The close 
of the poem, with its dignity and simplicity, possesses rare artistic 
beauty. 

2. Allemaine. The Allemanni were a German tribe living on the 
Rhine in the early Middle Ages. The modern French word for Ger- 
many is L' A llemagne. 

5. St. John's eve. St. John's day is December 27. 

6. The Magnificat. The hymn of the Virgin Mary, taken from 
Luke i: 46-55. named from the opening Latin word: Magnificat anima 
mea Dominum, etc. 

12. Clerk. In the Middle Ages, anyone who could read or write 
was a clerk, so called because learning was generally confined to the 
clergy. Compare cleric, clergy. 

56*. Seneschal. A steward in the house of a medieval prince. Page. 
A youth in training for knighthood ; a young attendant in the house 
of a medieval prince or nobleman. 

63. Dais. (Two syllables) A platform with seat and canopy in 
royal and baronial halls. 

82. Jester. A court fool, usually dressed in motley, who made 
sport for the king and court. 



442 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

86. Henchmen. Subordinate attendants or servants. The literal 
meaning is probably "horse-men." 

98. Cap and bells. The fool's insignia. 

106. Saturnian reign. Saturn was the ancient Italic god of seed- 
time and harvest, the husljand of Ops, (plenty). He is said to have 
civilized Italy by teaching the inhabitants agriculture. His reign was 
therefore called the golden age. 

110. Enceladus. In classical mythology the giant placed by 
Jupiter under Mt. Etna. Volcanic disturbances and earthquakes were 
attributed to his uneasy movements. 

150. St. Peter's square. The open square in front of the great 
cathedral at Rome. 

169. II ul]/ Week. The week of oiu- Lord's Passion, ending with 
Easter. 

186. Salerno. A seaport of Italy in the province, of Campania, 
on the southeast coast. 

187. Palermo. A city on the northern coast of Sicily. 
189. Angelas. See note on Evangeline, line 49. 

INTERLUDE 

2. Saga. See note on The Skeleton in .\rmur, line 20. 
5. Norroway. An old form for Norway. 

9. Saga-man or Scald. Scc note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 19. 

10. Ilcimskringla. An Icelandic chronicle written in the thir- 
teenth century by Snorro Sturleson. See introductory note on the 
Saga of King Olaf. 

THE MUSICIAN'S TALE 
THE SAGA OF KING OLAF 

The series of lyrics constituting the Saga of King Olaf was written 
in the fall of 1860, a year or more before the poet thought of writ- 
ing a series of connected tales. The opening lyric. The Challenge of 
Thnr, had ])een written at least ten years before the completed Saga, and 
was intended by the poet as a prologue to the second part of Christus. 
The idea of using the picturesque Norse material for a poem had been 
in his mind ever since his second visit to Europe, when he spent a 
short time in Sweden and studied Scandinavian literature. Several 
entries at various times in his Journal indicate how the matter grew 
from its inception. 

"September 17. 1839. — First, I shall publish a collection of poems; 
then and The Saga of II akon J arl; a, Y>oem. 

"February 25. 1859. — The thought struck me this morning that a 



Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 443 

very good poem might be written on the Saga of King Olaf. who con- 
verted the North to Christianity. Read the old Saga in the Heims- 
krintjla. Laing's translation. The Challenge of Thor will serve as a 
prelude." 

The next year he began work in earnest on the theme, and the whole 
poem of twenty-two lyrics was completed in less than a mouth. 

The work upon which Longfellow based his Saga is The Heims- 
kringla: or Chronicles of the Kings of Norway by Snorro Stiu-leson, d. 
12.38; it passed through the Danish into the Latin during the sixteenth 
and seventeenth centuries, and was translated into English in 1844 by 
Samuel Laing. The word "Ileimskringla" is the first word of the 
Icelandic manuscript, and means "the world's circle." In the last 
part of the first volume (Laing's translation) occiu-s King Olaf Trygg- 
vcsson's Saga, the defuiite part that furnished Longfellow with the 
incidents for his Saga. The period embraced by the Ileimskringla is 
from the earliest mythic period to the year 1 1 77. The most interesting 
part of this early legendary history deals with the latter years of the 
tenth century and the earlier years of the eleventh, diu-ing the reigns 
of Hakon Jarl, ( 977-995 j, Olaf Tryggvesson. (905-1000). and their 
immediate successors. The period was made noteworthy by Olafs 
zeal for the establishment of Christianity in the North and the perse- 
cution of the old paganism. This constitutes the theme of Longfellow's 
poem. The viking spirit is characteristic of the poem, and the Cliris- 
tiiaity displayed is of a rather wild and barbarous type. 

Line 1. Thor was the Scandinavian god of war, thunder, and agri- 
culture, son of Odin 'the Woden of German mythology). Thor was 
likewise known in German mythology. The name is preserved in 
Thursday, i.e. Thor's-day. 

10. Miolner. The name of Thor's hammer, the Crusher. Compare 
note on Excalibur, first Interlude, line 11. 

19. The light. Aurora Borealis. 

36. Thor's day. Not Thursday, but the Age of Force. 

38. Galilean. Christ. Note the striking bringing together of Thor, 
Jove, and Christ. 

48. Drontheim. The modern Trondhjem on the western coast of 
Norway. The word signifies "Thronder's home." 

55. His father. Trjggve, slain by Gunhild. 

66. Hakon. Friend of Astnd's father, to whom the deposed queen 
fled with her infant children. 

70. Vikings. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 17. 

74. Esthonia. A province of western Russia south of the Gulf of 
Finland. 



444 Narrative Poems oj Longfellow 

79. Allogia. Queen of Russia. 

83. Valdemar. Vladimir, Grand Prince of Russia d. 1015. 

86. Hebrides. Islands to the northwest of Scotland. 

87. ScilUf s rocky shore. Islands to the west of Cornwall, England. 
1 06. Smalsor Horn. A promontory southwest of Trondhjem, called 

Horn61en. 

131. Jarl Hakon. Jarl is the equivalent of earl, which is derived 
from it. and meant in those days a petty or local king. Olaf s influence 
in Norway began with his deposition of Hakon. Hakon's friends, 
however, formed the nucleus of an opposition that ended in Olaf's 
death. 

1 42. Orkadale. On the river Orka, a tributary of Trondhjem Fiord. 

169. Nidarholm. An island in the river Nid, opposite Trondhjem. 

175. Sif/rid. Queen of Sweden in the latter part of the tenth 
century. 

190. An old story in Norse mythology of one of the Valkyries 
punished by Odin. 

193. Ring of gold. The gift of Olaf wiiicli he had taken from the 
heathen temple at Lad6 (near Trondhjem) at the time he destroyed it 
in the interests of Christianity. 

232. Angvalds-ncss. A cape on the southwestern coast of Norway. 

237. Skerry. Scandinavian for "isle of rocks.'' The Skerry of 
Shrieks is just off' the Norway coast a little to the northv/est of the 
southern peninsula. 

274. Eyrind Kallda. One of the sorcerers (warlocks) whom Olaf 
summoned in order to destroy them. This one escaped up the chimney 
with the smoke. 

288. Wilch of Endor. Compare I Samuel xxviii: 7-25. 

329. The refrain at the end of the stanzas suggests the theme of 
the poem. It is an imitation of the old ballads. 

361. Havamal. Odin's chief song. 

388. Wraith. A phantom of a living person, ominous of his death. 

393. Hus-Ting. The English word, husting, means assembly. So 
here. Compare Storthing, great -meeting, the name now applied to 
the Norwegian Parliament. 

397. A noted peasant landlord who opposed Christianity. 

405. Hodden-gray. Rough, coarsc, homespun material. Compare 
Burns's lines: 



'What tho' on hamely fare we dine, 
Wear hodden-gray, an' a' that." 



416. Hymer. A giant whose very glance split the rocks. 
434. Men of prominence among the peasants. 



Notes on Tales of a Waysulc Inn 445 

460. Gudrun. Daughter of Iron-Beard, wedded by Olaf as atone- 
ment for her father's death. 

474. Cairn. A mound or heap of stones erected as a sepulchral 
monument. 

508. Thangbrand. According to the narrative in the 11 eimskrinala 
a Saxon priest of good scholarship but of wicked, ungoverna))le, hal)its. 
Olaf refused to have iiim in his house, and, to get rid of him, sent him 
to Iceland in the interest of Christianity. 

510. Chrysostom. One of the Christian Fathers of the fourth cen- 
tury, of the Greek church at Constantinople, famed for his oratory. 

584. On the Evangelists. On the books of the Bible, called the Gos- 
pels. 

603. Godoe Isles. They lie off the Norwegian coast of the Skerry of 
Shrieks. 

623. Salten Fiord. The arm of the sea projecting inland opposite 
Godoe Islands to the south. 

667. Apocalypse. The revelation to John on the Island of Patmos. 
Compare Revelation I. and following. 

669. Isle of Gelling. South of Godoe Islands. 

717. Yule-tide. The Yule festival was held generally by the primi- 
tive peoples of the north in the mid-winter season. 

720. Berserks. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 53. 

746. An epithet applied to Olaf's sword. Quern means millstone. 

749. Hakon's strong guard. 

785. Host. The sacramental wafer used in celebrating the Lord's 
Supper. 

789- This poetic conceit of the cross formed of the sword-hilt has 
been appropriately applied to Charlemagne and Alfred the Great. 

792. Was-hael. See note on The Skeleton in Armor, line 49. 

799. The viking ships were commonly decorated with a figurehead 
of some such design; hence the name. 

864. How long would this be? The remains of the Viking Ship 
found at Gokstad show a typical boat of about seventy-nine feet in 
length. 

886. Ulf. Scandinavian for wolf. 

939. Gorm was the first king of united Denmark. Harold Blue- 
Tooth was his son. 

944. Sweiji Fork-Beard, son of Harold Blue-Tooth, was the father 
of Canute the Great. Both are connected with the Danish conquest 
of England. 

950. Burislaf. The heathen king of the Vends, living south of 
the Baltic. 



446 Narrative PoemS of Lonnfellow 

959. Weald and wold alike mean forest; wold is probably derived 
from the older weald. 

988. Drottning. A Norwegian title equivalent to queen. 

1003. Angelica. An aromatic plant. 

1023. Gormson. Son of Gorni. Adding the termination "son" 
is a common Norwegian mode of word-formation. 

1084. Isle of Svald. Probably an island near the island of Rugen. 

1094-1097. Compare line 222. 

1 122. Erie. Son of Hakon and enemy of Olaf. 

1 125. The most northern portion of the Scandinavian peninsula. 

1130. Earl Sigvald. A relative of Burislaf, pretending friendship 
to Olaf but in reality acting as a spy. 

1145. Stct-haven. A bay on which is situated the modern city of 
Stettin in Prussia. 

1197. Brume. Fog, mist. 

1200, Regnarock. In Norse mythology, the twilight of the gods, 
the end of the universe; hence, "day of doom." Compare the German 
expression Goticrdammerung. 

1250. Poetic for clashing of the figiu'e heads. 

1267-1268. Verses composed on the death of Hakon, written by 
Skaldaspiller. were found in the Ileimskringla. 

1302. Kamper. Norwegian for fight. 

1310-1311. Compare Revelation xii: 7 and Isaiah xiv: 12. Satan 
was identified with Lucifer by the church fathers, under the imi)res- 
sion that the passage in Isaiah referred to him rather than to the king 
of Babylon. 

1350. The passing of King Olaf thus gives hope of the triumph of 
his cause in spite of the present failure. 

1378. Astrid the Abbess. The making of Olaf's mother an a)j])ess 
gives the idea of the victory of Olaf's cause. This concluding poem of 
the Saga is not based on the Heimskringla, but is a creation of the poet's. 
It gives unity and consistency to the general theme, and is a remark- 
able climax in its answer to The Challenge of Thor. 

INTERLUDE 

15. Heresies. Beliefs and even thoughts opposed to the orthodox 
faith. 

16-25. Longfellow had lived to see the stern Puritan doctrines of 
New England modified by the milder and more humane teachings of 
Unitarianism. 

25. Read the sermon on the Mount in Matthew v., vi., vii. 

26. Calvin. A French Protestant reformer of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, noted for his stern doctrines of original sin and foreordination. 



Xotes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 447 

The whole stanza coutrasts forms and verbal expressions of faith 
with the real essence of Christianity. 

27. Athanasian creeds. The Athanasian or Nicene Creed became 
the standard of orthodoxy for Christendom as a result of a fierce con- 
tention between Arius and Athanasius and their followers, who had 
been summoned to a council at Nicaea in 325 A. D. to settle doctrinal 
disputes and to define heresy. 

30. Decrees of Trent. The Council of Trent, which sat at intervals 
from 1545 to 1563, was held for the purpose of extirpating heresies 
and reforming morals. It was the result of a movement within the 
Roman church, known as the Counter- Reformation. 

34. Litanies. Penitential supplicatory prayers, forming part of the 
church service. 

35-36. Compare Luke xviii: 10-13. 

41. Compare Revelation i: 4. 

44-47. Compare Revelation ii: 17; iii: 21; ii: 28. 

51. Phaniasiasts. A sect of the Monophysites holding that the 
body of Christ was always incorruptible, and that he died only phan- 
tasmally. 

52. Man of Sorrows. Compare Isaiah liii: 3. 

61. Old Fuller. Thomas Fuller, an English author and divine of 
the seventeenth centiu-y.' 

62-63. Compare Luke iii: 22. 

THE THEOLOGIAN'S TALE 
TORQUEMADA 

This tale is based on the Spanish authority of Guillen de Castro, the 
historian of Spanish Protestantism. Longfellow speaks of his progress 
with Torqtiemada, and of his debt to De Castro, in his Journal of 1862. 

"November 29, 1862. At work on a tale called Torquemada for the 
Sudbury Tales." 

"December 5, imidnight . Finished Torquemada, — a dismal story 
of fanaticism; but in its main points historic. See De Castro, Protes- 
tantes Espanolas, page 310." 

The Inquisition, called the Holy Office, was established by Pope 
Gregory IX in 1235 to suppress heresy and pimish heretics. It was 
most active in Spain, Italy, and Portugal, and their dependencies. In 
Spain it attained its height during the latter years of the fifteenth cen- 
tury, and the term Spanish Inquisition has become famous in the polit- 
ical and religious history of Europe. Torquemada (1420-1498) was 
the first Spanish Inquisitor-general. The methods of the Inquisition 
appear to have been very severe. Longfellow's tale, Torquemada, is 



448 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

true to the spirit of the times and has the additional merit of represent- 
ing accurately the historic character, the Grand Inquisitor. 

1-2. Ferdinand. King of Arragon, and Isabella, Queen of Castile, 
by their marriage, 1469, paved the way for the union of the two leading 
states of Spain. By 1492, this was accomplished ajid the basis of the 
Spanish monarchy was laid. 

5. Valladolid. A city in a province of Old Castile. Columbus died 
there in 1506. 

8. Hidalgo. A Spanish nobleman, not of the highest class, but en- 
titled to 1)0 called Don. 

22. Wild beasts at Ephesiis. Compare I Corinthians xv: 32. 

23. Lent. The annual church fast of forty days, from Ash Wed- 
nesday to Easter. 

25. Plays of Corpus Christi. Miracle plays and pageants accom- 
panying the celebration of Corpus Christi Day, Thursday after Trinity 
Simday. Look up Miracle Plays in Bates's The English Religoua 
Drama, or in any history of E^nglish Dramatic Literature. 

26. Palm Sunday. The Sunday preceding Easter, celebrating 
Christ's triumphal entry into Jerusalem. Compare Matthew xxi: 1-1 1 . 

32. The Jews and Moors were treated with especial cruelty during 
the days of the Spani.sh Inquisition. Compare line 118. 

125. Mystic horn. Torquemada is said to have kept the horn of 
a unicorn always with him, thinking it had some mysterious power of 
protecting him from harm. His fears were also responsible for the 
guard of the fifty horsemen, (line 114), 

130. Compare Genesis xxii: 1-19. 

175-180. The scaffold here described is probably the one still stand- 
ing in Seville. 

INTERLUDE 

21. Compare line 8 of the first Interlude. 

22. Night of Straparole. Straparola was an Italian novelist of the 
sixteenth century. A collection of his stories is popularly referred to 
as "Straparola's Nights." 

23. Machiavelli's Belphegor. Machiavelli, an Italian statesman 
and writer (1469-1.527), in his Marriage of Belphegor, tells of an arch- 
fiend, formerly an archangel, who came to earth to spy out the unhap- 
piness of married life. 



Notes on Tales of a Wayside Inn 449 

THE POET'S TALE 
THE BIRDS OF KILLINGWORTH 

This is one of the few tales in this series entirely original with the 
poet. It has however, been traced to a slight suggestion taken from a 
personal recollection of Mr. Henry Hull, a resident of Killingworth, 
Middlesex County, Connecticut. Some years ago, "the men of the 
northern part of the town did early in the spring choose two leaders, 
and then the two sides were formed; the side that got beaten should 
pay the bills. Their special game was the hawk, the owl. the crow, the 
blackbird, and any other bird supposed to be mischievous to the corn. 
Some years each side would bring them in by the bushel. This was 
followed up for only a few years, for the birds began to grow scarce." 

For Ijeauty of theme and wholesomeness of sentiment, the poem 
is one of the best in the present series. 

4. Saxon Ccedmon. An English poet, living in the mi<ldle of 
the seventh century. His Hj'mn is the first poem known to have been 
written in Old English on English soil. The expression Blithe-heart 
Kino occurs in his Genesis, a metrical paraphrase of a part of the Bible. 

12. Compare Matthew x: 29 and 31. 

15. Compare Luke xii: 24. 

16. Compare Matthew vi: 11. 

21-24. Lines reminiscent of the poet's youthful days at Portland. 
Compare these lines from his poem. My Lost Youth: 

"I remember the black wharves and the ships. 
And the sea-tides tossing free; 
And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 
And the l)eauty and mystery of the ships. 
And the magic of the .sea." 

25. Killingworth. A town in Middlesex County, Connecticut. 
The name is a corriiption of the English Kenilworth. 

26. Fabulous days. The tale, though possessed of a local setting, 
is a happy combination of fable and real story. 

30. Cassandra. The daughter of Priam, King of Troy. She was 
a prophetess and foretold the destruction of Troy. 

39. A reference to the old Egyptian custom of displaying the image 
of a mimimy at a feast. 

43. Squire. A title of honor applied to a lawyer or justice of 
the peace. In England the word applies to a landed country gentle- 
man. 

52. Edwards. Jonathan Edwards, (1703-1758), a distinguished 
American divine and writer, the author of The Freedom of the Will. 



450 Narrative Poems of Longfellow 

54. The Adirondack region is in northeastern New York. 

89. Plato, a Greek philosopher of the foiirth century B. C, in his 
work, The Republic, described an ideal commonwealth. 

93. Troubadours. Wandering singers of the middle ages. 

96. Compare I Samuel xvi: 14-23. 

184. St. Bartholomew. The massacre of the French Protestant^, 
authorized by King Charles IX and urged by the queen-mother, Cath- 
erine de Medicis, occurred on St. Bartholomew's night, August 24, 
1572. 

193-194. Two different Herods are referred to: the former, Herod 
Agrippa, whose death is told in -Vets xii: 21-23; the latter, Herod the 
Great, whose slaying of the children of Judtea is told in Matthew ii. 

211-212. The figures in these two lines are beautiful when fully 
worked out and understood. Autumn came without the accustomed 
autumn leaves, red like the tongues of flame, (See Acts ii: 1-4), and 
without the usual fruitage, reckoned by a census, which the poet com- 
pares with William the Conqueror's Domesday Book. 

239. Compare Revelation xxi: 1. 

FINALE 

19. The constellation of the Bear. Ursa Major, commonly called the 
"Dipper." An ilhistration of the poet's accuracy of observation; in 
the autumn, the Bear sets about midnight. 



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